Death's True Hallows
by Ensis96
Summary: She had electric blue hair and emerald green eyes that twinkled with mirth at their surprise, but what put her even more out of place was her clothing. She had no robe or House emblem, nothing Wizardly about her at all. The halfblood beamed at the Poltergeist of Hogwarts and brightly spoke words that had never once been said: "Hi Peeves, it's nice to meet you!" (A Next-Gen fanfic)
1. Ch 1 New to Hogwarts

**Ch 1. New to Hogwarts**

 _Hey! Welcome to my story dear reader. ^.^ It's nice to meet you! This is my first published fanfiction ever. I admit to writing them on my own and then losing the sheets of paper... hehehe... but please let me know what you think of this one! Good, bad, bleagh- tell me how I can improve! Rereading my chapters I do notice that my writing gets stronger as I go along._

 _I hope you like the intro chapter (there's a prologue one-shot on my account as well), and in case you didn't see the word count that has gotten oh my goodness long, this is going to be a long story. This is the first part of a three part saga, which sets up my OCs, bad guy, and of course shares my version of the wizarding world 23 years after Voldemort's demise._

 _Added note: I started this _ before _Harry Potter and the Cursed Child came out, so I will NOT be using any of that material in this story._

 _~E_

* * *

"There's a new ghost in Hogwarts."

Rose Weasley looked up in surprise; Albus had spawned some crazy theories in their three years at Hogwarts, but this one was certainly new. "A new ghost." She repeated, just to make sure she'd heard him right.

Her cousin and best friend nodded his head vigorously across the Gryffindor table, his messy mop of hair bouncing all over his face.

She sighed. It seemed it was once again time for her to disillusion her cousin- who was the same age as her, but _honestly_ he was worse than Hugo- and receive his sulking silence for a few days. At the end of which, he'd come back with some other idea that she'd have to show him just wasn't possible. "Albus... 'Hogwarts, A History' says the last new ghost in Hogwarts was Moaning Myrtle in 1943, and that was the first new ghost since the 1800s."

"She," Fred Weasley II piped up from his breakfast toast. "She was the first new ghost since the 1800s."

"Come off it, Fred." Rose rolled her eyes. "Mum's not here to get mad at us."

Fred opened his mouth then closed it, tilting his head when he looked at his cousin. "Right, sorry. I guess I'm going overboard since Aunt Hermione made me an official member of S.P.E.W."

Roxanne groaned dramatically and draped herself onto her big brother, making Fred choke on his toast. "Oh, woe is the poor, whiny ghost that likes to sneak into the boys bathrooms. What, does Auntie plan to start a ghost rights movement too?"

"Oh Merlin don't even joke about it." Rose shuddered, remembering all the hours she already spent with her mum knitting hats and scarves for The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. She agreed with the ideal her mum had regarding house-elf rights, but thought her dad was right when he claimed mum went over the top.

"Is nobody going to mention how blatantly the two of you eavesdrop?" Albus Potter huffed, annoyed that they weren't talking about his ghost anymore. Seven pairs of eyes looked at him incredulously, and he relented under the combined pressure of the entire Weasley-Potter clan. "All right, all right fine. Would've told you next anyways."

Rose rolled her eyes. If he hadn't, she would have. To tell one Weasley something was to tell all nine of them. Plus a few of the other of the 'Legacy Children', as their classmates called them. They all generally hated the title and much preferred to continue calling themselves a clan as they always had, but it got harder to do after they arrived at Hogwarts and the Daily Prophet gushed about 'the children following in the legacy of their parents'. After that, Legacy Child was a title thrust upon pretty much any kid whose folks had landed on a Chocolate Frog Card after the Battle of Hogwarts. It was a bunch of nonsense that had only made it hard for them to connect with the 'normal' students of Hogwarts and forced them to band together for company, though with such a large group it was hard to ever feel lonely over it.

She looked around and realized their clan was smaller than it should be. She knew Lysander was studying in the Ravenclaw common room with some of his friends, and Dominique was probably off snogging her newest boyfriend, but they were still a few people short. "Where's James?" She asked of habit rather than interest.

Albus beamed again as the topic returned to the one he wanted. "James and Lorcan are going to catch it."

"Catch what?" Rose murmured as she looked through the list of potions ingredients she needed to include in her essay, and missed his crestfallen expression.

"They left to catch Hogwart's new gho-ost!" He whined, and Rose winced as his tone matched that of her little brother Hugo, who would start Hogwarts next year. It was amazing how immature Albus sometimes acted even compared to his own little sister Lily, who was dutifully concentrating on studying for the last tests of her first year at Hogwarts.

"They went on a ghosthunt and they didn't invite me?" Roxanne fumed, slamming her hands down on the table as she stood up. "Godric's sword, something interesting finally comes up and they think they can just..." the rest of her statement trailed off as she stomped away from the Gryffindor table.

"Albus," Rose once more felt obligated to remind her cousin of the facts. "You can't catch a ghost. And besides, there can't be one because-"

"Actually that rumor's been going around for a while now," Fred interrupted her before she truly upset Albus, who was notably dejected at being dismissed. "Bunch of students have said they're noticing one they've never seen before."

"Really?" Her interest peaked and she looked at her friend, finally noticing that he was honestly getting cross with her. "Did you see it yourself?"

Albus nodded, poking at his food. "It looked familiar, but he was walking around in muggle clothes."

"He?" Fred looked surprised. "I've been hearing the ghost was a girl."

Rose frowned at the discrepancy, but Albus cut her off to exclaim "Well James will bloody well catch him and then he will bloody well tell us all if he's a bloody girl or not!" His voice rose and cracked each time he declared the word 'bloody' and his face grew red with the famous Weasley temper. Then he folded his arms and sulked, kicking Rose underneath the table.

She, in turn, chose to display more of her mum's cleverness and decided not to point out the many things wrong with the grammar of his sentence. "Then we'll wait till they get back. In the meantime, don't we all have finals to be studying for?"

The clan groaned the reminder but dutifully pulled out their books as they continued their Saturday luncheon, a family tradition that usually got all of them together, if certain troublemaking family members weren't off on a wild goose chase. Rose took full advantage of the quiet moment to finish her Potions essay.

Her blissful concentration was once again shattered when Fred knocked an inkwell over as he finally processed something his sister had said, looking positively horrified. "Myrtle does _what_ in boys bathrooms?"

* * *

"They're hunting a ghost?" Malfoy sneered, looking at Melissa.

Melissa and Priscilla nodded, giggling at the stupidity of Gryffindors. "All brawns and no brains; it's not _possible_ to _catch_ a ghost-"

"-they'd just walk out of any room you lock them in." Priscilla finished in a self-satisfied tone.

Malfoy bit his tongue to keep himself from replying that ghosts, as incorporeal entities of thoughts and notions held together by a sense of self, would phase through any spell as well. And no ghost actually 'walked' anywhere. Instead he looked up at Nott and Zambini, an eager grin on his face. "Are you blokes thinking what I am?"

"Wow Scorpius." Melissa breathed, adoration shining in her eyes. "You've already learned Legilimency?"

Malfoy shot her his winning smile even as his stomach churned at her idiocy. If he had learned how read minds, he wouldn't need to _ask_ what someone was thinking, would he? Thankfully Nott spared him the need to verbally respond when he spoke up instead. "I'm thinking that with everyone panicking about finals, this could be a perfect chance to catch those two alone in the hallways."

Zambini grinned as he caught on as well. "To get back at them for last week."

"Oh, and the week before that!" Priscilla piped up, earning a sullen glare from the three boys.

For three years, three long and spite-filled years the five of them had opposed the Legacy Children with all they had. Each group, naturally, claimed that the other had started it. And it wasn't even a fair fight, in number or- Scorpius would never admit this aloud- magical skills. Though they tended to get a one-up on the Legacies in their own classes, James and Lorcan were two years ahead of them in studies and didn't hesitate to use that to their advantage.

Two weeks ago the Legacies had spiked their pumpkin juice with a cheer potion, forcing them to go to class with ridiculous expressions on their face and costing them house points when Zambini giggled, _giggled_ like a _girl_ at Professor Slughorn. To which they responded by magically gluing the youngest Potters into their chairs during class, costing Gryffindor the same house points when Ablus refused to join a demonstration in Defense Against the Dark Arts rather than tear his pants (they were all surprised he hadn't ratted them out). Most recently, the Legacies had retaliated by managing to detonate a dungbomb in the privies of the Slytherin dorm, and it was high time to get back at them for it.

He strode out of their common room, Marcellous Zambini and Thomas Nott following him instantly as they always did.

It took a while to finally find Potter and Lorcan, their trip punctuated with their hushed planning.

"-need to do something original, the Legacies stole our idea to turn their robes purple."

"Yeah, needs to be something we haven't done yet."

"How about a dung bomb?"

"That would make it look like we're the ones who copy them, idiot."

"And using something from the _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_ is hardly new," Scorpius grumbled, even as his mind kept trying to churn out new ideas. "What it- what if we get them in trouble with one of the Caretaker?"

They grew silent as the notion sunk in. It was a good plan, and would be a very simple one. When Mr. Filch's notorious cat Ms. Norris had died, the old squib had finally retired and left the post to a house-elf from the kitchen. The elf, Snottgrout, was just as mean and arguably even nastier than her predecessor. Both Caretakers rarely took the time to fully investigate incidents in favor of quickly finding and dolling out punishments with far too much glee. It would be easy to pin something on the Legacies.

But still... despite being the one who suggested it Scorpius, at least, hesitated. This would be crossing a line that neither group had even toed before. While the ultimate goal was always to beat and yes, humiliate the other, nothing yet had been done with the direct intention of causing harm to the students' careers.

Not that he cared about what happened to the Legacies- all of them could get jobs at the Ministry of Magic based on name alone. However the Malfoy family had their own history to live down and at this point his battles could be disregarded by teachers as childish rivalry, though there was nothing childish about anything Scorpius Malfoy set his mind to. Doing this would definitely cause the situation to escalate and he could potentially lose his plausible deniability. Something that did not sit well with his self-preservation drive as a Slytherin.

Before he could voice his concerns Nott grabbed his arm and pointed over a banister to the landing below. There, James Potter and Lorcan Scamander were lazily leaning back on a window seat, basking in the sunlight.

 _And probably their own over-inflated egos_ , Scorpius added to himself. Their conversation carried well through the empty hall, and he focused on hearing it while he absentmindedly watched Zambini scurry off somewhere.

"He seriously believed us?"

"Yeah," James grinned at the pleasure of pulling another one over his little brother. "He thinks we're hunting for that ghost of his."

"What'll we tell him?" Lorcan chuckled, but without quite his usual enthusiasm. He was supportive of the troublemaking nature of his friend and loved initiating some good pranks of his own, but it never felt quite as fun when they pulled one on their own clan. Particularly naïve little Albus, who hung on James's every word only to be jerked around time and time again.

"Oh, we'll tell him... lets see. Why don't we say it was a bloody, dismembered woman that made even the Bloody Baron flee as she chased us within an inch of our life?" His casual tone didn't match the careful scheming that flickered behind his eyes. "It'll probably give him nightmares for a week and make him wet the bed for sure."

Not for the first time, Scorpius wondered how the arrogant, manipulative prat had made it into Gryffindor and not Slytherin, but felt grateful the Sorting Hat had sorted the way it did. He could barely stand Potter when he was in the same room, let alone the same living quarters.

Zambini came back, floating a large and notably fragile bust of Headmistress McGonagall behind him. "Snottgrass will charge in here any second now looking for this."

 _Well,_ Scorpius thought of his reservations as he looked at the pilfered mantle, _too late now._ Either he or they were going to get in trouble for this, and it wasn't going to be him. He silently motioned for Nott to give him a hand balancing the bust on the banister, not bothering to explain the best way to do this would be to knock it over with a spell from a distance. He wouldn't risk Potter overhearing him as easily as he could them.

The three of them froze guiltily at the sound of Roxanne Weasley's voice echoing down the hall. "Oi! Whadya think you're doing?"

Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief when she appeared not before them, but beneath them and approached her cousin on the floor below.

Roxanne gave James a not-so-playful punch on the shoulder. "Who said you could go on a ghost hunt without me? You know I'm ruddy well dying for something to happen at this boring school."

Lorcan smiled at her. "Oh we know Roxy. But we're not really going after a ghost, we just said that to get Albus to pipe down about it."

The girl deflated visibly at the news. "Then, please tell me we're gonna do _something_ better than study with Rose all day long?"

James snapped his head up, "Oh yeah, we still haven't gotten the Sneakers back for gluing Albus to his chair."

Scorpius was caught between a mix of pride and confusion. The statement made no sense but it was obvious the title referred to him and his friends, and personally he thought it better than 'Legacies' though not by much. He was more proud that their efforts had warranted acknowledgement from their rivals, enough to necessitate a shorter and quicker means of discussing him since it happened so often.

Nott and Zambini hesitated on pushing the statue. Each moment they delayed risked them being caught with the bust, but the chance to hear their enemies plot against them was rare and was certainly worth chancing a few more seconds, at least?

"Didn't you two do that with the dung bomb last week?"

James and Lorcan looked at eachother and burst out laughing. "Really, Rox? If we could make it into the Slytherin common room we'd put it somewhere way better than their privies."

"Honestly," James added. "You'd be the first to know if we could, and then we'd have you help us get it into their dorm. What bloody idiot would set off a dungbomb in the bathroom? May as well get one of them sick and let them stink the place up themselves."

"Matter of fact," Lorcan added thoughtfully, "That's probably what happened. Wonder how we ended up getting credit for it."

"I'm not complaining. Let them think it, just another thing we'll get away with that Uncle George didn't."

That was probably exactly what happened, Scorpius felt like kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. He realized that he was the one that had probably started the bloody rumor. He'd been taking a shower and was so determined to find how the Legacies would respond in the next round that when the gods-awful smell emanated from the restroom and sent everybody scuttling he'd immediately muttered "Potter."

The real culprit must have heard him, spread the rumor to cover their own embarrassment, and when it circled around to him again he'd no way of knowing it was actually based of his own actions.

Roxanne looked between her two boys and sighed. "Fine, I forgive you. Now, what shall we do next?"

"Is that supposed to go there?" a loud, curious voice came from just beside Scorpius's ear.

The three Slytherin's jumped in surprise, Zambini knocking into the bust with his shoulder and sending it toppling toward the ground below. Scorpius had to pull Nott back over the railing when he tried to jump after it, cringing for a crash that never came.

The three people below and the three people above stared breathlessly at the bust Roxanne Weasley had saved at the last second, even as Lorcan had moved between her and what he thought was going to shatter. After she released the spell to set the carving gently on the ground the six stared at eachother, half of them confused half of them relieved and all of them wondering just what exactly had happened.

"Oh I guess is doesn't. Well, can that bust of the Headmaster talk?"

Six pairs of eyes whirled on the girl that casually sat on the railing right next to Scorpius, swinging her legs over the edge. She had electric blue hair that reached her shoulders and emerald green eyes that twinkled with mirth, but what put her even more out of place was her clothing. She had no robe or house emblem, nothing wizardly about her at all. Just a plain shirt and pair of shorts, running shoes... and tall black-and-blue stripped stockings. Okay, Scorpius amended, completely out of place. The abundance of blue seemed to tinge her skin and as short as she was- sitting on the banister she was still below his eye level- Scorpius couldn't help but compare her to a Cornish Pixie.

"Oi, you three," the girl shouted down to the still-confused Legacies, "could one of you ask Miss McGonagall the way to her office? I got lost again."

After longer moments of silence Malfoy sighed and decided to try and scrap what he could from this situation. Starting with, who was this strange kid and why had she interrupted him, Scorpius Malfoy, instead of minding her own business. "What do you want?"

She looked at him for the first time and he was startled by the zap of energy she had in her eyes. It sent tingles down to his toes. "I want to ask Miss McGonagall the way to her office."

Was this girl being purposefully dense? "Why would a statue be able to talk?"

"Well the paintings do, but they all said they're not supposed to tell anyone where her office is-"

"The _portraits_ are soaked with an expensive potion that takes days to take effect. Do you have any idea how much they would need to make for it to work on a statue?" The potion was only common because it was reusable, and it didn't take much of it to soak a flat picture. Scorpius knew it would theoretically work on statues as well, but that would require a huge vat of the potion that would likely remain underused. Such luxury wasn't worth funding even in Malfoy Manor.

She looked down and he thought he'd successfully cowed the girl until he noticed her fingers twitching along with the math she was trying to do in her head. Then her eyes snapped back to him and asked "Sixteen liters?"

He looked into her serious face and had to wonder how stupid this girl could be. He was about to put aside his father's teaching of Malfoy manners to ask what this girl was up to in a blunt and deservedly rude manner- this girl had ruined what was sure to be a good prank, after all- when James called out from the landing below "Peeves!"

Nott cursed and followed his gaze to find the infamous poltergeist himself barreling towards them, knocking against tapestries and suits of armor while cackling a new song. _"He's coming, he's coooming, he's coming HERE! Hold your head and hide your rear, the one that curses all draws near!"_

"Dammit he's bringing the Caretakers!" Malfoy shouted over the loud and off-tune singing, covering his ears to drown the racket out. Zambini turned tail and ran, Nott following but at least summoning the courage to cast a spell before he did. Scorpius found himself without allies as Peeves came closer, the portraits cursing the unstoppable force of destruction that wandered their halls.

The poltergeist froze before the blue pixie girl, quickly and solidly enough that it seemed Nott's spell had petrified him. Then the pixie smiled and stood casually on the banister, and Scorpius wondered what spell she was planning to cast from such a precarious perch as she brushed off imaginary dust.

Then his jaw dropped as she extended an empty palm, beamed at the Poltergeist of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and brightly spoke words that had never once been said in a thousand years of school history. "Hi Peeves, it's nice to meet you!"


	2. Ch 2 Bond of Friendship

**Ch 2. Bond of Friendship**

* * *

James Potter, eldest heir of The Boy Who Lived, was sure Roxanne's mouth was on the floor, his own not that far behind it. His mind had to play catch-up with him to understand everything that had happened in the last minute. He'd been having fun with Lorcan, then Roxy had come up and thought she'd been left out of their pranks- really she should know better- then something had started to fall on their heads.

He glanced at the bust of Headmistress McGonagall. Then some girl, a new member of the Sneaker group, started taunting them about it when Peeves had come into the hall like a whirlwind. And now- James snapped his gaze back up- that girl had offered Peeves... a hand of friendship?

She was obviously mental or a complete idiot, but James still felt a twinge of jealousy bolt through him. Here was another thing neither his parents nor aunts nor uncles had ever managed to do, and some nobody girl was doing it first.

Even the poltergeist himself seemed taken aback, frozen in place as it hovered above his head but even with the banister the girl stood on. It looked at the extended hand with suspicion. "Itle-wittlle baby-bwue want _what?"_

"Well I would love a map," The girl shrugged, her hair shimmering in a way that had to be magical. "But I'm not sure it'll do much good, with the way this castle changes, and it's more important I find Miss McGonagall right now. Do _you_ know the way to her office?"

Directions. James couldn't believe it. This little, bratty kid was befriending _Peeves_ the _Poltergeist_ for... directions?

Lorcan shook him out of it as he pointed down the destroyed hallway, which was being magically put back together as a small figure slowly stalked toward them. "Snottgrout is coming!"

James looked at the stolen bust of Headmistress McGonagall and grimaced. "We need to get going."

"If we're gonna get in trouble, may as well be for something good!" Roxanne exclaimed, waving her wand to make sparks fly through the air and give all the portraits in the hallway mustaches.

"Rox!" Lorcan groaned. "We were supposed to save that for the History of Magic final!"

James glanced up only to find that Malfoy and Blue Hair had already left and Peeves was taunting the now portraits Roxanne had enchanted. Frowning, he turned to run for the nearest secret passage. "Com'on."

Roxanne threw back her head and gave the same laugh that her dad, George Weasley, had once peppered the halls with. "Ha ha _finally_ , a good run!"

* * *

Rose had finished her Potions essay and rereading her Transfiguration Book. She knew the charms that would be on Flitwick's final by heart and she really, really should be focused on practicing theory of Shield Spells for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Instead she glanced over at Fred, who was sitting still as a rock. When he wasn't distracted by social things like what Moaning Myrtles were doing in bathrooms when they shouldn't be, he didn't let anything delay him from his task. His seriousness was forever a source of mystery for the family, who all expected him to live up to the troublemaking ways of his dad and the twin he was named after, Fred Weasley I.

His younger sister Roxanne, on the other hand, was quickly moving up the list of Hogwarts' Greatest Pranksters and Troublemakers along with James. His parent talked about the irony of it quite often over family gatherings, Rose recalled.

 _"Maybe we_ should _have named you Rashaan and her Freddette." Uncle George would tease, only to be scolded by her Aunt Angelina._

 _"George!" Her Aunt Angelina would whisper fiercely._

 _"Just joking, Angie, joking. After all, he's much better as a Freddy Frodo." Four year Rose old started to laugh with the rest of the clan, Aunt Angelina's red face only making it all the funnier._

 _"GEORGE!"_

Needless to say the nickname had stuck for a few Christmases after that. The clan still called him 'Frodo' from time to time, but objected to any outsider using it. Rose smiled thinking of the ten year old memory.

Thump.

Rose jerked and hid a grin when she realized Albus was kicking her chair again.

Thumpthump.

He looked at her through his messy hair and nervously asked. "Wanna catch a ghost with me?"

Thump.

"You can't-" Rose bit her tongue and sighed "Do you want to go _find_ a ghost together?" A beaming smile made all the frustrations worth it.

"Yeah!" His childish nature never failed to bring a grin to Rose's face, and she put her books away slowly as she watched him bounce from side to side in excitement. There was a reason James went overboard with teasing his little brother; it was just so entertaining to see all of his reactions.

Finally her cousin couldn't seem to wait anymore. "I gotta grab something, meet you back at the Tower!" And Albus dashed outside.

Rose chuckled, amused, and started after him but was stopped when a small hand gripped her side. She looked down to see Lily glaring up at her. "Don't you start teasing him too. James is bad enough and I'll have my hands full with Hugo soon."

Lily Potter could be a strange little girl, completely serious and despite her status as one of the clan youngest she was easily their best peace-maker. Her oldest brother was irresponsible and her closest brother was immature... Rose supposed it had been a natural development for her to develop a silver tongue in negotiating quickly as she had. No other first year would have dared scold Rose or James as often as Lily did.

"I know. I honestly just need a break from studying, and who knows? Maybe he's right and there is a ghost to find."

Lily narrowed her eyes, considering, then released her cousin's robes. "No making fun of 'im if you don't find it. Her. Him- whatever the ghost is." She huffed and went back to reading about levitating charms for her upcoming finals.

"Yes mum." she answered, and grinned when her younger cousin nodded back seriously. Rose fingered a lock of her red hair as she climbed up to the Gryffindor Common Room. She hated being a Weasley Legacy but loved her Weasley family- what would she do without her cousins?

* * *

Scorpius panted after their long run, and pressed himself farther into the back of the small alcove he was concealed in. It was dark, musty, and uncomfortable, but that was the least of his concerns. He needed to stay hidden at least until Potter's crew got caught, or the Caretaker moved on.

"This isn't MgGonagall's office."

He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. Then there was that. He didn't know what had possessed him to pull the blue kid along after him, but now he was stuck with her hiding with him until it was safe to go.

"Is this one of those secret passages I'm always hearing about?" She added, undeterred by his silence as she looked around.

"This," Malfoy took a deep breath to balance his composure. "Is where we're going to wait and hope nobody finds us."

"If that's what you're worried about we should be fine," The pixie girl carelessly ran a finger through the dust and rubbed it between her index and thumb, "Doesn't look like anyone's been in here for a while." She waited for a few moments, then her gaze turned suspicious as she threatened "If you brought me here to try and kiss me, you should know-"

"No," Malfoy cut her off with a sneer, "I did not."

"Good." She nodded, the relief on her face deepened his scowl. He and James competed in many things, popularity being one of them. There were hosts of girls at this school that would beg to be in this situation with a 'bad boy' like him, snogging or not, and this chick was acting as though it was the most repulsive idea in the world.

"So why were you moving that statue?"

He debated whether he should talk or ignore her, but her very presence was distracting and he had a feeling she could be downright annoying if she set her mind to it. "Just getting back at a couple of Gryffindors."

She practically buzzed with excitement. "There are griffins in the school? Cool!"

"What- no, Gryffindor, the student House."

She frowned. "Who needs a house in a castle?"

How did anyone in Hogwarts not know about the Houses? He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "The students are divided into four groups, called Houses: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepluff, Gryffindor. Those students are in Gryffindor, _I_ ," He gestured proudly to the badge on his robe, "Am in Slytherin."

"Huh." She lifted a curled finger to her chin and seemed to be taking that in.

He took the moment to study her better. She was short, like he noticed earlier, but upon a closer inspection she seemed older than he'd originally assumed. Her body was curved without a trace of fat and her face held the angled sharpness of intelligence. "Why did you talk to Peeves?"

"Didn't you talk to that ghost first? You shouted his name."

That had been James, _not_ him, but he gave her the point anyways. "Peeves is a poltergeist- very different nature from a ghost- who takes pleasure in tormenting everyone and everything in Hogwarts."

Surprise glowed in her green eyes. "Really? He doesn't seem like the type."

So much for intelligence, Malfoy sighed internally. "You're lucky he didn't throw a dungbomb in your face."

"A dung...bomb?" Her nose wrinkled. "Does that do what I think it does?"

He nodded smugly, enjoying the look of dawning horror on her face.

"Gross! Who would walk around with something like that? What if it went off in your pocket?"

Scorpius chuckled as he was struck with the image of just that happening to James, and filed it away for future planning.

She laughed too, a tinkling sound that made him smile even more as they relaxed on opposite walls. "So, how long until Snottgr-"

He shot at her and covered her mouth, the other hand instinctively pointing his wand at her chest. " _Don't say it!"_

She squeaked in surprise as he leaned over her until she was pressed against the wall, his nose inches away from hers. "Do not. Say. That name. You understand?"

She hesitated, then shook her head, soft strands of electric blue hair brushing against the hand on her face. "Hii wot?" She mumbled from behind it.

It took a moment to decipher her question. ' _Why not?'_ Well, he supposed, not everyone had their own house-elf. "She'll hear you and catch us."

Her expressive green orbs flickered toward the empty hall on the other side of the tapestry and back, obviously saying _We're alone, genius._

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Fine. The house-elf will _sense_ that someone said her name and be able to apparate straight here. Now do you understand?" This time she nodded, and he slowly moved his hand, but kept the wand where it was in case she said it anyways to rat him out.

"I thought you couldn't teleport in Hogwarts."

Tele-? Where was this girl from? "Of course wizards can't apparate in Hogwarts."

"But you just said-"

"House-elves have different magic." This was only once of the most important factors that had allowed Harry Potter to gain allies and locate all the Horcruxes, enabling him to defeat the Dark Lord in the Second Wizarding War. Merlin, how could anyone be this ignorant?

Again she grew silent as she absorbed the information, during which Malfoy realized that he was still pressed up against her and that if anyone walked in on them, it _would_ seem like they were snogging. He quickly jumped back.

The girl looked down at the distance he put between them and seemed amused if nothing else as she finally saw what had been poking into her. "Did you really threaten me with a stick?"

"A-" Scorpius Malfoy could not believe his ears. "A _stick_? This is a _wand_ , you crazy pixie!"

"... Looks like a stick."

"I- this is a twelve inch, hawthorn, dragon heartstring core-" Scorpius realized that he was starting to bluster and shut his mouth. Malfoys did not bluster.

"My bad; it's a stick, with a bit of _dead animal_ inside it. Yeah, that's much more scary." She turned away from him and muttered "Weirdo."

He struggled to remain calm, but was finding it hard to do so in the face of such startling ignorance. He was seriously considering the possibility that a Muggle had somehow wandered into Hogwarts. Scorpius forced himself to speak slowly, wondering if anything would make it through that weird blue hair of hers. "This is a wand. The dragon heartstring core amplifies and focuses a wizard's magic to increase spell potency."

"Why?"

He narrowed his eyes and tried to figure out what this girl was ignorant of this time, and was finally forced to ask "Why what?"

"Why does a stick make magic more powerful? How does it work? Shouldn't it, I dunno, slow it down more like a net or something?" She waited a little bit, eager, then frowned at his silence. "What, aren't you here to learn magic? It can't be that hard of a question."

 _She dared-_ Scorpius was livid. This little slip of a girl had been waving her idiocy around for all to see, and now she dared imply that he, _he_ , Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, was ignorant? He looked down his nose at her, doing his best imitation of his father when the latter helped him study. "I was just trying to imagine the simplest possible way to explain a complex subject to your uneducated mind."

"Oh. Okay." And just like that the girl relaxed, looking up at him with a patient but still hopeful and eager expression.

Well that was unexpected. He'd thought she'd get upset again, or at the very least defend her 'uneducated' self. It left his prepared retorts to die in the back of his mind as she waited for him to do what he'd promised and answer her query about his 'stick'.

He scowled at the challenge in her eyes and eventually explained "Wands act as a catalyst and a focal point. It's small shape condenses the magic of it's user and the core amplifies it as it resonates with the natural mindset of the Wizard, resulting in a stronger and more focused blast that's impossible to achieve without one."

The girl nodded for a moment longer then frowned, "Well that seems positively useless. What good is magic if you can't cast it without a stupid stick?"

It could have been his imagination, but Scorpius would swear his wand was heating in his hand the more she insulted it. He tried to reason in a way she could understand. "What's the point having shoes when you need to walk?"

"Feet can walk without shoes- I mean, they're nice to protect you from sharp rocks and the like- but what happens if you lose that stick? Can you not cast magic then? Or what if it breaks? What if someone steals it? Will you be rendered a magic-less twit without it?" The last question held genuine curiosity as the girl looked up and awaited his response.

It was rare that Scorpius Malfoy was ever at a loss for words, but that's where he found himself. There was ignorance, there was stupidity and then, it seemed, there was this girl. "Who are you anyway?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you tell me who you are first? You're the one who's been dragging me around."

She didn't know who he was. Scorpius waited for his anger to rise at the notion that someone hadn't recognized a Malfoy on sight, but it didn't come. Surprised at himself, he answered instead of protesting. "Malfoy."

"Malfoy. Malfoy, Malfoy..." Her eyebrows drew together in puzzled confusion and he noticed that they, unlike her hair, were a normal brown. "Oh! I know you!"

And there it was. He sighed and waited for her to shout Death Eater or traitor and back away, as everyone always did. Not everyone said it aloud, but this girl seemed like a vocal person and would likely say exactly all the dark things she'd heard about his father and grandfather. Though he hated to remember it, he and his group had banded together because they, not unlike the Legacies, had parents who'd become famous in the Battle of Hogwarts. But while the Legacies enjoyed gushing admirations, squealing fangirls and autograph requests, Scorpius and his friends usually found themselves shunned and ignored throughout their classes.

She snapped and pointed her finger at him in the same motion. "You're the top student in the year!"

He looked at her in surprise and said what was likely the most unintelligent statement in his life. "Whaa?"

"Yeah, top of the class for all practical exams and top or second on all the written tests. You only ever come in second to... um... oh what was her name, that red Wessel girl named after a flower..."

He laughed, a full laugh which rang louder than it had in awhile. "Are you talking about Rose Weasley?"

"That's the one!" She beamed at him, then grew more serious. "Wow, can't believe I got to meet a top student my first time here. I'm Malam," She shot her hand out to him with the same smile she'd given Peeves.

He too looked at it as though it was biting dragonsnap. "Just Malam? What's your last name?"

"That is my last name." Her eyes twinkled. "I'll tell you my first when you tell me yours."

That tingling feeling went down to his toes again, and he took her hand. "Nice to meet you, Malam."

"Ditto, Malfoy." She kept smiling, then her face turned a bit pink and she pulled her hand back. "So, um, _now_ could you tell me the way to the Headmistresses office?"

* * *

It turned out to be a short run. For all their boasting and bragging, James and Lorcan still hadn't mastered the maze of hidden passageways that wove throughout the school. This, combined with the fact that the trio had no real destination in mind was the reason they were now sitting in the Headmaster's office, awaiting the reprimand that was sure to come while Snottgrout guarded the exit.

"You three again?" The question was more of a sigh as Headmistress McGonagall descended the staircase from the upper floor. Roxanne had been told that McGonagall used to be one of the strictest teachers in the school, but the silver-haired, weary-eyed woman before them didn't look half as frightening as their parents' described.

The Headmistress turned to Snottgrout, "Thank you," she said, "I can handle it from here."

The caretaker left with the implied dismissal, fuming as she did and grumbling something about Peeves and scissors and having to sweep up hair. Roxanne hid a smile, word of her creative spell would no doubt spread through the halls much the same as those mustache hairs. But then McGonagall cleared her throat and Rox's thoughts turned to their current predicament.

McGonagall looked at the three of them in turn, the silence stretching past being uncomfortable and delving into the realm of unbearable. The Headmistress' lack of shouting and screaming was a stark contrast to what the caretaker normally enjoyed.

Finally McGonagall shook her head and moved to stand behind the large desk at the center of the room. "I'd hoped that all these childish quarrels would be stifled after twenty years- it seems my hopes were ill founded."

"My dear Minerva," Rox jumped and looked at the portrait of Dumbledore as he continued, "time is hardly a proponent for peace. Give them the chance to mature and gain wisdom of their own."

"Wisdom?" Roxanne's head swiveled to look at the portrait of Headmaster Snape. "That is hardly the trait Gryffindors are known for, let alone those of a Potter."

"Oi!" James jumped out of his chair. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, _Mr._ Potter, that you and your kin still suffer the dimwitted, misplaced bravado that your grandfather displayed when he roamed these halls."

"Why Severus," Dumbledore smiled at the other portrait, "I do believe that certain... other students displayed this 'misplaced bravado' in their time here, wouldn't you say?"

Snape's scowl deepened "As I've told you, Albus, I-"

"Enough, the both of you." McGonagall interjected in her soft voice, "Mr. Potter sit down."

James glared at Snape few moments more, then sat down with a grumble. "Dunno why dad named Albus after a git."

" _Mr_. Potter." McGonagall looked at him over her glasses for a few moments and held his gaze, ensuring his attention. James sighed and slumped in his chair- so much for getting off easy. McGonagall had her serious face on. "Now, the three of you have been wreaking havoc for three years now, and till this point we've allowed it. But desecration of school property will not be overlooked, even in the last week of school."

"As such, I am now faced with the dilemma of how to appropriately punish you while allowing you time to study for the next five days- which contain the last reviews, might I add, before you start taking your second week of O.W.L.s. Mister Potter, you will accompany Miss Snottgrout in cleaning the trophy room every night until the end of the year. Miss Weasley, you will serve the same sentence by straightening the broom cupboards at the Quidditch Pitch. Mister Scamander," Lorcan jumped in his chair, having started to doze off through the process they'd all gone through a dozen times. "You will help the Prefects enchant the girls bathroom on the second floor against flooding."

"Not Moaning Myrtle..." he groaned, dismayed.

James cleared his throat, ignoring his friend's plight. "Headmistress, if I may, I know more about brooms than my cousin. I was, after all, appointed Seeker to the Gryffindor Team second year."

"Proficiency at a sport, Mr. Potter, does not give you the privilege to choose your own punishments." She shot Snape a warning glare when he chuckled, silencing him before he could comment. "In addition, all three of you are banned from going to the Hogsmead trip after finals and shall instead assist the house-elves in cleaning an old teachers bedroom- without magic."

Their chorus of protests began in unison.

"But Headmistress-"

"That's not fair-"

"We'll just be getting in the way-"

"It'll take forever, no magic?"

"This is the caretakers job, not ours-"

"Malfoy's the one who started it, he-"

" _Enough_." McGonagall looked hard at them, "My decision is not up for debate. Next time, I suggest you think before you act. Use those heads of yours to consider the consequences. I will have you know that the house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizarding world for centuries. I will not allow you to besmirch that good name by acting like a babbling, bumbling band of buffoons." After a moment of ensuring there would be no further protests, McGonagall nodded, "Now off you go, and remember, if you are caught again I can extend punishments into the next school year."

James, Roxanne and Lorcan sulked as they left the office. "I was looking forward to buying a new dress with Rose and Lily in Hogsmead," Roxanne sighed.

"I was planning to use the pitch for practice this week. I don't have a pitch at home."

"I," James declared, "am going to get that brat and make him regret this. Malfoy can't hide from me."


	3. Ch 3 Introductions

**Ch 3. Introductions**

* * *

A scant few minutes after she dismissed James, Roxanne and Lorcan, McGonagall found herself with yet another person in her office. It never seemed to be quite this busy back in Dumbledore's day, she mused to herself as she looked from the long contract in front of her to the young man who stood behind it. "You seem certified for this, Mister Orion. You have quite the... recommendations." She finished, watching him gleefully play with the full beard on his face. Tilting his hand-held mirror, he shrunk it to a mustache, then gave himself sideburns, before pulling it back into a 5-o'clock shadow. None of them seemed to please him and he sighed as he banished the mirror and returned his face to its natural baby-smooth appearance.

All the portraits were watching in quiet curiosity. Despite the many years they'd hung there, even the oldest Headmasters still found it rare and entertaining to watch a metamorphmagus at work.

The Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt cleared his throat to catch the boys attention once again, which he gave now that he had decided how to appear before the students. "Jonovan will work here next year, but report back to the Ministry whenever we request it."

"Shacklebolt," McGonagall seemed annoyed on principle that the Minister was making a decision about her school, despite their longstanding friendship. "It is Hogwarts criteria that all new staff stay on the grounds for their first year. If you wish to have access to your little pet project at a whim, perhaps you could arrange for Mister Orion to get a job at Beauxbatons or Durmstrang instead."

"No." McGonagall's aging knees were the only thing that kept her from jumping in surprise when Jonovan Orion spoke for the first time. His voice didn't match his face, it was deep and full of intellect. "I've looked into them, Headmistress, but I believe that in addition to a notably larger library this school also has deeper knowledge into the many natures of magic and therefore provides much better tutelage and unbiased education for its students. If those are the rules I must follow for this arrangement to work, Ma'am, then of course I shall."

McGonagall smiled slowly while the Minister glared at the young man. It seemed this boy was not a one-trick pony as she'd originally assumed. "It seems there is much more to this situation than I've been informed, Shacklebolt. Perhaps you, Mister Orion, would be willing to tell me more about it than your friend here."

"Oh certainly," Jonovan kept ignoring the sullen glare his 'friend' was giving him. " _After_ I am assured of my position here. I'm surprised that you haven't yet brought up the last point of our request."

After judging his sincerity for a few moments McGonagall picked up the reading glasses that hung around her neck and flipped to the last pages of the contract she hadn't had the time to examine before Shacklebolt had brought his guest into her office. Despite staying on her Grounds for the past week, the Minister waited until a few scant hours ago to grace her with the purpose of his visit. Her eyebrows rose even higher as she recognized a musty old form, though only through passing history books upon being appointed Headmistress. "What is this?"

Shacklebolt cleared his throat when he noticed her surprise, and sought to run damage control. "I'm aware that this situation is highly unusual, Minerva, but I give my word you'll understand after we-"

"Unusual?" McGonagall's voice cracked as she pointed to document's that hadn't been used for ages. "Kingsley, less than a dozen students have been transferred into Hogwarts in the history of the school!"

The portraits sprung to life at this, muttering in surprise and astonishment. Many started consulting each other on the unusual request, the few Headmasters that had experience with the matter shouting to try and get their opinions heard over the rest. Even McGonagall was unable to quiet them until Dumbledore stepped in to aid his successor, booming in the same voice that had once quieted the Great Hall.

"SILENCE!"

Shacklebolt gave up on trying to control these proceedings and sat back in his chair with a quiet sigh, leaving this mess for the many Headmasters to sort out themselves. Dumbledore's portrait nodded kindly to McGonagall, letting her speak for herself now that she could be heard.

"Mister Orion, you must be aware of... how unusual, this... condition, is."

Jon pulled out the finger he'd been wiggling in his ear, resigned to the ringing that was sure to stay there for hours to come. "That's why it's a condition that I won't budge on, ma'am. Besides, muggle academies transfer students all the time. Surely it's not that hard for a Wizarding School to manage."

"Muggle schooling?" The pink-faced Headmaster screeched from his portrait. "You think muggles can do better? Take the brat in Minerva, I don't care who it is, just turn that smirk of his upside-down."

"A jinx would be quicker." Jonovan smiled like a shark at them all, "But please, I'll frown all day long for you if you just let her attend Hogwarts while I work here."

McGonagall noticed a missing section and asked with suspicion "Even though you have neglected to mention her previous place of schooling?" When he didn't answer immediately she looked up, only to find he was resolutely ignoring her to instead stare at the door to her office.

"Mister Orion?"

Shacklebolt sighed, obviously knowing something she didn't as he stood and opened the door to the office, allowing a small girl to breeze inside. "Thanks Rex!" She beamed at him, ignoring his amused eye roll as she automatically kept walking until she stood next to Jonovan. He in turn moved once more to a hand on the head, which was level with his chest.

McGonagall grew silent as she watched the vibrant blue of the girl's hair instantly turn a lime green, starting from the roots and proceeding to the tips. The portraits started to murmur once again. It seemed that they too found it unheard of for a metamorphmagus to affect someone else so easily.

The girl looked at the new tinge of her hair and smirked, reaching up to pat his shoulder. "Sorry I'm late. You won't believe how easy it is to get lost around here, Jon."

Then the girl turned and McGonagall sucked a breath in through flared nostrils as the Headmistress recognized the nature of the magic that shot through her when their eyes met. It shouldn't be possible, Minerva had only heard it mentioned in old tomes and passing theories of wandlore... Her eyes rolled toward the sheepish Kingsley, who seemed surprised at her reaction. Was it possible the Minister didn't know? Or was she jumping to conclusions?

"I'm Zoethia Malam." The girl proudly declared as she stepped up to the desk, casually putting a hand on the contract they'd been discussing. A charm bracelet twinkled at the room from her small wrist. "It's nice to meet you Miss McGonagall. Have you gotten to the part where I transfer into Hogwarts next year?"

* * *

"And then we'll just- Malfoy? Scorpius, are you even listening?"

It took his first name to snap Scorpius out of his thoughts, blinking as he came back to himself at the Slytherin breakfast table. He realized he was staring, not scowling, at a group of the Legacies and turned away immediately. "Sorry, I wasn't. Trying to remember whether Hagrid would have us handle Fire Crabs for the final this year."

Nott and Zambini nodded and let it slide as that. Priscilla, however, was annoyed that he wasn't paying attention to her and followed his gaze toward the Gryffindor table. Then she smirked and elbowed Melissa. "Hey, looks like Malfoy was taking time to smell the _Roses_."

Scorpius groaned to himself when they all looked to see if he had indeed been staring at Rose Weasley. Unfortunately, this time they were right. He'd been considering what Malam had said about her, and him, two days ago. Rose was the one listed as top of the class, so it was surprising that anyone who wasn't staff knew he was technically the best at practical applications of magic. It begged the question of whether the pixie had a close relationship to a Professor, maybe even enough to see student records. But if she was the daughter or granddaughter of someone who worked here, surely she would at least know the usefulness of a wand? Or the four Houses and what they stood for?

"What, Malfoy, don't tell us you _like_ her?"

The question seemed to come out of the blue and he gaped at Melissa. "What?"

His friends glanced at each other, relieved and amused. The less eloquent their leader the was the more likely he was being honest with them. "Rose Weasley," Nott piped up with a grin. "Do you like her?"

"We are talking about the same Weasley here, right?" His eyes narrowed. "The Legacy brat that assaulted us on the Hogwarts express first year to declare I was forever her enemy? The one that walked around last year with pimples all over her face and biting her nails in every class? The one that finds me after every test just to assure herself that she did better than me, then rubs it in my face? That Rose Weasley?"

"That's the one." Nott grinned, then grew serious as he thought more about it. Legacy Rose did seem to spend a lot of effort trying to best their Scorpius, and always wanted to know what he was up to while they were competing over something, which was all the time. "Hey, maybe she's the one who likes you?"

For a moment Scorpius dared consider their unlikely pairing. Rose Weasley, despite her many flaws, was the most tolerable of the Legacies. She was intelligent enough to have a _reason_ to walk about as though she owned the place, and in his opinion was least abhorrent to look at. Her red hair was more auburn than vibrant Weasley red, and her freckles were light instead of masking her face the way her cousins' do. Her poisonous green eyes used to be the brightest he'd ever seen, until he met Malam. The moment passed and he scoffed and rolled his eyes at his friends.

"Please. She likes proving to her father that she rivals Malfoys better than he did." The table grew silent, and Scorpius sighed as he realized they were on the verge of commenting about his own relationship with his paternal family. He cut them off, finally remembering what the group had been talking about before he'd gotten distracted. "I think we should let them be."

Melissa narrowed her eyes at him. "But, that dungbomb they set off-"

"Wasn't even theirs. Look, Melissa, I like being a thorn in their side as much as you do but we, and they, have final reviews today and then the finals the rest of the week. Professors won't let stuff slide just because we only have six days left here, and we all know how badly you need to pass your classes."

He let her embarrassed blush sink in, and wasn't surprised at her lack of response. They knew Melissa Goyle as many things, though smart and witty never made the list. "We should end the year on a high note with the teaching staff, so that's what they think of us over the summer and are less suspicious when we get back."

"True." Zambini nodded as he acknowledged the point, "But you know Potter's gonna try to get back at us in the next few days." The group had gotten nervous when they'd heard they'd landed the three most active Legacies in detention for the last week of school.

"Let him." Malfoy shrugged, confidence practically oozing off him. "I'd much rather he rushes things now rather than have three months to plan and nurse his wounded pride." Which was much too big and certainly deserved a good bruising, if you asked him. Scorpius considered his own opinion for a moment and nodded, finalizing his decision for the group. "We don't touch the Legacies till next year."

* * *

"We need to get the Sneakers back before the end of this year." James said over Monday's dinner for the fifth time.

This time he elicited an audible reaction from Fred as the older cousin sighed and looked up from his plate of pork chops. His glare was more bored than angry as he said, "Give it a rest, James. There's not even a month left in school, you've already got detention, and you _should_ be studying for finals. Unless you want to also be the first Potter to fail a grade. Since you want to be the first Potter at everything." The last sentence was barely audible as Fred went back to his meal.

Roxanne shot her brother a grateful look as she picked up the mantle, pausing over her perusal of a star-chart. "He's right, you know. Six days left and O.W.L.s to stress over. Five for me, since I have my Astrology O.W.L. after dinner _and_ detention tonight."

"I can't believe you'd let those wankers get away with ruining the end of our Fifth year!"

Fred didn't even bother looking up this time, "Technically, the only ones who ruined it were yourselves. We've been telling you to stop targeting them for ages; _they_ actually bite back, unlike some of your other victims." He glanced meaningfully toward the empty spot at James's side that Albus usually sat in. "I don't know which is worse."

James waved the comment aside, "They were the ones who started it- I mean, look who they supported during the Great Wizarding War."

"Don't be ridiculous." Lysander intervened, leaning around his twin Lorcan to make his point. "They weren't even born yet, how can that be what started this?" James's face grew red at the logic behind the response.

"Shouldn't you be with your Ravenclaw pals?"

Lorcan swerved his head around to glare at the comment. James may be his best mate, but Lysander was his brother and everyone knew the two did their best to spend as much time together as possible. They'd been devastated when the Sorting Hat had given them different Houses five years ago, but neither could dispute the differences in their personalities.

James realized his blunder, but clenched his jaw stubbornly and refused to admit it. Their staring match went on until Dominique sat between the two of them with a puff of perfume, oblivious to their argument as usual to gush dramatically "There was the _cutest_ guy in Care of Magical Creatures today."

Fred rolled his eyes, but forever blessed Dom's ability to distract the clan with a meaningless subject. "Is your newest crush in my class again? Or is he Ravenclaw, or another Hufflepuff?"

"Nope." She grinned, and everyone turned to her in shock.

Roxanne glanced at James nervously as she asked "You can't be crushing on a _Slytherin_ , can you?"

"Ew, no." her enthusiastic denial made the clan relax in relief. "He's an older guy. Hagrid had him handling the blast-ended skewts, which should make anyone unsightly but Orion," she sighed dreamily, "He still looked amazing."

"Orion?" Lorcan blinked at her. "Jonathan Orion?"

"Jonovan." Her gaze was still off somewhere in Dominique-world, where she was probably undressing her newest obsession in her mind. "It sounds similar, but he prefers you say it right."

"You've daydreaming over the portly, mustached guy that was in Transfiguration?" Fred asked in astonishment.

"What? No," Lorcan protested. "He was definitely a tall spindly fellow, thin as a twig."

"Where'd you meet him? Because that sure ain't the same bloke."

"He's a total hunk," Dominique protested absentmindedly, not caring about anything else they had to say about him.

Lysander frowned and counted off on his fingers "Magical Creatures with Dom, Transfiguration with Fred, Defense Against the Dark Arts with me and Lorcan- what do you wanna bet this guy was at all of today's review sessions?"

James, who hadn't gone to a single one of them, protested. "It's not the same guy, genius. Weren't you paying attention?"

"Weren't you the one who enjoyed challenging Teddy to look like someone new every day?" Lysander shot back.

The group grew silent as they thought of their Legacy friend who had graduated Hogwarts two years ago. James narrowed his gaze. "Are you saying this bloke's a metamorphmagus?"

"Either that or he was drinking polyjuice potion of different people all day long."

"Cool."

"Not cool." Rox replied to her love-addled cousin. "What was he doing in all of our classes? Why have we never seen him before?"

James smiled as he realized something that wasn't supposed to had indeed just happened. "We should ask him and find out."

"Ooooh here's your chance!" Dominique squealed as she pointed to the Head Table, where McGonagall stood and called for attention. At her side stood a young guy, and even Roxanne had to admit he was attractive.

There probably wasn't a single girl in the Great Hall who listened to their Headmistress introduce him, too busy drooling at the man. He was a bit taller than average, broad-shouldered, and stood in a way that just exuded competence. But he was smooth-faced with a winning smile that kept him from being intimidating, and just like that James knew there was a new heartthrob at the school. Dom clapped the loudest when McGonagall explained he'd be joining the Hogwarts Faculty next year, and every girl there joined in the applause.

When the crowd died down and she said he would be an Assistant to Professor Binns during History of Magic, some of the boys were even more enthusiastic than the girls that started cheering again. Roxanne reasoned they must have been in that review group, and wondered how anyone could make that class anything but dusty and boring.

Jonovan grinned and tried to address the Hall, but the girls squealed after he shouted "Hello, everyone-" and kept drowning him out every time he tried to speak for the next ten minutes. Eventually he settled for shouting "Thank you!" and waving as he left with Headmistress McGonagall.

"Merlin," Fred carefully uncovered his ears a few minutes later. "I hope they don't do that all year, otherwise they might have to sac the poor bloke."

Dominique looked horrified at the idea but Roxanne sighed and comforted her brother. "Don't worry, it's just stress from finals and the novelty of a new teacher giving them the chance to scream."

"A hot new teacher." Dom unabashedly met at their expressions of mixed annoyance and amusement. "What? He totally is."

"Well now that's settled." James flicked his bangs out of his eyes, ready to move on from talking about the school's newest fascination. "We can get back to planning about Malfoy, and-"

"You know what, Lysander?" Lorcan set his fork down and stood up. "I think we _should_ eat dinner with Ravenclaw today."

"But-" James sputtered as they got up, then grew red as he saw Roxanne start after them. "Rox!"

"I have an O.W.L. in two hours I need to study for." She said without a trace of sympathy as she walked away, pausing to throw back over her shoulder "If it's that important to you James, why don't you do it on your own for once?"

* * *

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes!" Albus grinned back at his little sister, his freckled nose inches from her own. "If you want to catch a ghost, you have to think like a ghost."

Lily caught Rose's eye underneath the cloak and sighed, her look clearly asking for help. Rose just smiled, silently commenting back that Lily was the one who had said Rose needed to encourage him in the first place. Lily glanced at the blanket-thick cloth they were under in a way that plainly begged for fresh air, and Rose sighed as she had to agree. It was getting hot under here with three people, but Rose made the youngest Potter sweat it for a bit longer since _she_ was the one who had promised that both of them would help in the ghost hunt until they went home.

Finally it got to be too much for her as well. "Al," Rose started calmly, "You know ghosts aren't always invisible. If we wanna think like one, we should be visible sometimes too."

The girls held their breath as Albus scrunched his face to consider her new idea, and then sighed with relief when he nodded and pulled the Invisibility Cloak off them. While Lily stretched and Rose playfully mimed gasping as though the air were poison, he carefully folded his most prized possession.

Dad had given James the Marauder's Map start of his second year, and keeping with the tradition had given his second son his Cloak of Invisibility at the same time. They were all curious about what Lily would get over the summer before she started her second year, but Albus thought nothing could be better than what he had.

But if she got something reeeeally interesting, he _might_ be okay with swapping for just a couple of hours. Sometimes. Not really that often. If at all.

It really just depended on what Lily got. But his Cloak was still better, he never went anywhere without it. He slipped it gently into its own pouch in his schoolbag and, since this was his adventure, led the way down Hogwarts' brightly lit hallways. "Come on! If I were a ghost, I'd walk _this_ way..."

* * *

"Nice going, Jon. Are you sure you don't wanna be a student here too? They'd fawn all over you. Bet most of them are hoping for a forbidden student-teacher relationship."

Jon grinned down at Zoey, who was resting her head on his lap as they relaxed on the bed they'd occupied for the past week. After being nearly deafened in the Great Hall Jonovan had decided to retreat to the visiting quarters they'd been lodging in at Hogwarts, and had just finished recounting his day. "But of course they would, who could resist my Adonis-like figure?" He gestured to himself with a cocky grin and waggling eyebrows, sending the girl into a fit of giggles. He joined her a few moments later.

"Of course," She finished and gasped in air after she regained control of herself. A twinkle entered her eye when she sat up and looked at him hopefully. "Hey Joooon?"

"No." He cut her off, knowing very well what she was about to ask him to do, again.

"Please?" She begged, sliding off his lap to get to her knees on the ground, brushing aside the books she's spent the whole day reading. "Please, please, please-please-please?"

"No, Zoethia." He used her full name to let her know he was being serious. "We've been doing it too often and if Kingsley finds out he won't be happy."

"But I've been stuck in here _all day_ and I didn't try to sneak out once! Can't I just-"

"No." He watched her face fall as her eyes grew moist, looking at him in a way she was well aware he couldn't stand. "Zoey..." He scolded, waiting for it to go away but relenting when it didn't. "Fine, I'll do it for you tomorrow."

Her tone was suspicious as she challenged "We're leaving tomorrow."

"Kingsley has us moving out tomorrow night, there'll be time in the morning."

"Yay!" Her crocodile tears cleared out and she snuggled back next to him on the bed, clearly not sore about waiting. "I'm gonna explore the third floor next, then sneak into the Great Hall when they're all taking finals. Oh, and there were some really pretty flowers in the garden..."

"Yeah yeah," He muttered, placing a hand on her head and absentmindedly watching her hair turn a darker shade of green. Jon doubted he'd ever know why it happened so naturally with her, he couldn't do it for anyone else. When they learned that it never changed for longer than a few hours, it had become a special thing between the two of them. Now she got mad when he refused to swap it around.

Zoey noticed the new color and laughed, batting him on the side. "Oh don't be jealous, I'll bring you one before we leave. And then we'll _both_ have all of next year to explore all we want! It's going to be so much fun, Jon. I wonder what group I'm gonna be in- did you know, Jon, that there's four student groups in this school? One of them's named after griffins and the other three..."

Jonovan quietly listened to her go on, happy to see her so energetic. It had been a pain to get Kingsley to let them come, months of negotiating on his part and begging on hers, but it had been worth it to make it here. Her hair automatically turned vibrant blond under his hand the more she talked to him, until it was practically golden, and he smiled.

Today was a good day.


	4. Ch 4 FINAL-ly Busted

**Ch 4. Final-ly Busted**

If the new assistant was half as good as Zambini swore he was, Scorpius couldn't wait until next year. He stretched when Binns, the old ghost, declared that the Final was over and for them to leave their papers on their desks. Two hours of racking his brains to summarize the Witch Hunts of the fourteenth century, and he still had that nagging feeling he'd forgotten something.

After he set his quill down to join the other Slytherins and Ravenclaws that were leaving the room, he wondered how Binns graded their papers anyways. Spirits couldn't pick anything up, and they certainly couldn't use magic to move stuff about. He wrote it off as one of the mysteries of Hogwarts as he looked for his friends in the crowd escaping from the dusty room.

Someone bumped into him as soon as he crossed the threshold, and Malfoy was annoyed but not surprised to find a pair of green eyes looking up at him. "Morning, Rose. Shouldn't you be cramming for transfiguration?"

The Weasley gave him a freckled grin, "Oh I never need to cram _my_ studies. I was just wondering, Malfoy, if you remembered to mention Wendelin the Weird's fascination with being burned at the stake, and her invention of the Flame-Freezing Charm?"

His left eye twitched. As soon as she said it, he of course remembered the point he'd meant and forgotten to write about in the final. Dammit, how did she always know exactly what he needed to work on? "She was caught no less than forty-seven times during the Witch Hunts," His voice gave no evidence of his irritation, "Though disputable accounts provide evidence the number may actually be in the sixties."

He smirked when she frowned, then huffed indignantly, buying his act. "Well, _I_ got an Outstanding on the test yesterday. What do you think you'll get?"

"Probably a T, since even a Troll's better company than him." They both turned to see James striding up to his younger cousin, the crowd of students automatically parting for him as they did on a daily basis. Malfoy instinctively checked the back pocket of his bookbag for his wand, the Hawthorne wood calming him greatly. Despite what he'd told his friends, if James went after him in broad daylight Scorpius wasn't going down without a fight.

"James," Rose Weasley started to blush and took a step back from Malfoy. "What are you doing here?"

"Just killing time before O.W.L.s," He grinned, then turned to look Scorpius up and down with a disapproving glance. "You look rather disgruntled, Malfoy. Been sneaking around again?"

"Always," he met the hostile gaze with a grin, running a hand through the bed-head that couldn't be tamed when he'd been up late the night before. "What about you? Done anything actually worth mentioning today?"

Potter's face grew red. "Loads, though it's none of your business. I will say I did get some practice in with the Gryffindor team." His confidence sank back in. "How about your attempts at becoming Seeker? Want some tips? First, dye your hair. Then, stop being a ferret-face like your dad..."

Scorpius grit his teeth and couldn't stop himself from growling at the back of his throat. He was annoyed that he let James of all people get to him, but everyone was well aware he'd been trying for the Seeker position since he got into Slytherin. He spent three hours every week at the pitch, shadowed every practice and even though it was beneath him, even chased the Quaffle when the team needed it. Somehow, he still kept getting turned down from officially joining. He wasn't even a back-up.

"... I suppose you could always buy your way onto the team, Malfoy, since that's just about the only thing decent about you." James finished.

Scorpius's amused snort caught both of the redheads by surprise. "That's rich, coming from the Legacies who use their parents as credentials." Rose's jaw dropped, and he basked in their gobsmacked expressions for a moment, musing that this just might become a Patronus memory.

"All good and fun you two, but I have another final in a half hour, so..."

James caught his arm and forced him to meet his brown eyes, which glared at him hatefully. "Don't think you're that great, Malfoy. Everyone knows your parents even better than ours."

"James," Rose's small voice piped up. "Could you walk me to Transfiguration? I know there's a shortcut but I can't remember which portrait it's behind."

Potter looked at her, surprised, before he gave Malfoy's arm one last squeeze and dropped it. "Of course I will, Rosie. I've got the time."

Scorpius looked at her with suspicion as well. Was she serious, or- his mind shot back to Nott's comment about liking him better than they thought- was she attempting to get James off his back? Not a chance, he had decided yesterday, but narrowed his eyes a bit as he watched her retreating figure today.

"I was doing just fine on my own," Her voice floated through the hall. "I already beat him in History of Magic- Ooh, you don't have to look that smug, James. Your face gets all scrunchy."

Nope. Not a chance.

* * *

"And then once you've confirmed the Anti-Cheating Charms, you must first determine if the students have maintained the proper titles of their essays. Only then may you proceed to checking their grammar, and..."

Jonovan rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake through Binn's slow and monotone lecture on how to properly give grades. If this was how the ghost taught his students the whole year long then it was no wonder Hogwarts was getting bad reviews about this class. He glanced toward the open classroom door, sorely tempted to walk through it.

Orion was certain Kingsley had stuck him in here to get back at him for his impertinence in the Headmistresses Office. There really wasn't a point to this, he had worked with grading essays before. Even if it was a long time ago, practically another life, he didn't need to hear all this. Jon found himself wishing he had joined Zoey on her explorations of the Grounds.

"... never forget to make sure indentations in their essays are the same size, and their lines evenly spaced. Students must name at least four major events and the names of two famous witches or wizards in each of them within every essay..."

That did it. Jonovan threw down his pen and laced his fingers behind his head, tilting his chin to the ceiling. He wouldn't take this for a minute longer. Closing his eyes, Orion brought to mind the spell he had cast on Zoey just that morning. He focused on what he wanted until he felt a sensation like running water pour down on him, and he grinned as he lifted his hand. It was now opaque and mostly see through, and he rushed to gather his supplies, shoving his pens and paper into his backpack in no particular order.

Kingsley was always entertained by Jon's insistence on using muggle items, but they were more familiar to him and were yet another thing the young man refused to budge on. But having gone undercover as a muggle a few times himself, the Minister admitted that there were some things that muggles had gotten right. Jon had given him a set of colored pens last Christmas.

Binns didn't even notice his new assistant disappear from his seat, or the breeze that flowed through the classroom when the door budged a bit as Jonovan snuck out, leaving a note for Kingsley on his desk. Glancing at his watch he decided Zoey was probably still skulking about the third floor and, mostly sure of the way there, started walking down the corridors.

He ignored the students he passed since most of them didn't notice him, but was greatly amused when a small boy with messy black hair grabbed the girl next to him and shouted "See Lily, see? I _told_ you the new ghost was a boy!"

* * *

An hour and a half after he'd survived Binn's final, Scorpius set his quill down atop another final essay in a classroom full of Slytherins and Gryffindors. This time he knew he had covered all the points of the theory behind the Draconifors spell and comparable transfigurations that required the precise knowledge between the similarities between animate and inanimate.

Popping his neck with a crunch that he knew made a certain red-headed Weasley girl cringe every time, he stretched and massaged his wrist as he looked over his words. He spent the next thirty minutes revising what he'd written and making it as close to perfect as possible, determined to receive nothing less than Outstanding.

When Professor Patil called time, Scorpius couldn't resist the confident smirk he gave her. All that was left was a practical demonstration and, well, everyone knew he could do that with his eyes closed.

He reached into the main pocket of his bag to grab his wand, frowning almost as soon as his fingers touched it. Something was bothering him as he lined up with the rest of the class to take turns walking into Patil's office for the last part of the test, many students taking the opportunity to quietly whisper together. The Professor took each of them into the room alphabetically, last to first, which of course meant Zambini went first, followed by Weasley.

Zambini took awhile and left the room looking disappointed as he walked by his classmates, but cheered up as he quickly escaped the classroom for the relative freedom of the hall.

That feeling of dread kept growing the shorter the line got.

Scorpius frowned; it was rare that he ever felt nervous over a practical. He flicked his wand through the seven standard spell motions, then froze and looked down at it, cursing after he pulled it up to his eyes for closer inspection. At the base of the wand were three, curly W's that should not be there. _You don't have to look that smug._

Nott frowned from his spot ahead of him in the line. "What's wrong Malfoy?"

The door opened and Rose came out of the office, practically beaming at Professor Patil. Scorpius barely contained his anger until the door the Professor's office closed again, and then all but charged into Weasley and grabbed a fistfull of hair.

Her surprised shout gained the attention of the classroom and even the Slytherins were looking at him in shock as he pressed her against the blackboard, a murderous look in his eye when he demanded "Where is he?"

* * *

There were a lot of benefits to exploring Hogwarts while invisible. Or, as Zoey preferred to call her current chameleon state, unvisible like she was. She could wander anywhere she wanted and there wasn't anyone who would try and stop her, except for that short Caretaker-elf whose name Malfoy had warned her to stop saying.

So far this morning she'd found two more shortcuts off the third floor and an empty room that seemed like it would make a good hide out. Or hiding place, Zoey amended as she remembered her sudden flight through the school three days ago. She'd been planning to go down to the Great Hall next, like she'd told Jon, but she didn't.

The Malam had gotten just one of those feelings, that maybe the Great Hall wasn't where she wanted to be most at that moment, and let her feet take her to the greenhouses instead. Unfortunately she couldn't get to the prettiest flowers because of a crowd of students that had been crammed in there, but she hung around anyways and found a funny little plant with leaves that changed colors. They fell off their shoot when she touched them gently, and Zoey was struck with worry that she'd killed it.

Then she noticed the many petals on the floor and deduced that it was simply time for these leaves to come off on their own. Having done a bit of gardening in the past, she knew that it was important to pick dying leaves off plants as soon as possible to keep them healthy. So Zoey decided to be a good samaritan and started humming as she pruned the colorful plant, placing the trimmings in careful stacks on the nearby table. When she finished the first pot, she wandered until she found another one to work on, then another. Eventually the last plants were at the back of the greenhouse, and the trips with her armfulls of leaves were getting longer and longer.

She was so buried in the repetitiveness of it and trying to remember the next lines of the song she was singing that she didn't notice the boy until it was too late. He was tall, and he had round glasses perched on his nose. Even Zoey knew this was rare for a wizard, since there were apparently many spells to help with eyesight trouble while wizards were young. Yet he must be a wizard, for he was wearing a student robe and was even, she looked closer at the black tinge in his red hair, one of the Gryffindor's who'd refused to talk to the McGonagall statue for her.

If she hadn't practically rammed into him he wouldn't have noticed Zoey at all. But standing three feet from him there wasn't much her unvisibility could do as he looked her up and down, his gaze stopping on her hands. His face grew red and he reached for his pocket as he shouted "Hey! Why are you stealing Rainbata leaves?"


	5. Ch 5 Twit in a Garden

**Ch. 5 Twit in a Garden**

* * *

Rose knew she aced the practical. Well, aside from that last Lapifors charm at least. The wand movement might not have been as refined as she'd hoped, although the spell still worked perfectly. If someone criticized that the rabbit's claws were still stone, Rose could easily say it had been an intentional action. Luckily, Professor Patil hadn't seemed to notice.

As she exited the office her eyes naturally drifted down the line of victims awaiting their turn. Albus gave her a toothy grin from his spot in line and a few of the Slytherin girls glared at her.

Her green irises lingered on Scorpius's grey ones as he stared over her shoulder, a small frown causing the crease form above his brow. Rose's lips twitched, he was almost cute when he was nervous- no, concentrating would be a better word. He would be offended if someone accused a Malfoy of feeling nervous.

But it wasn't just the test that seemed to be on his mind as his frown deepened and she realized he was truly upset about something. She straightened her spine and pulled up her chest as she started to walk out of the room, letting him know exactly how confident she was feeling. She had definitely just beaten him again. Professor Patil called in the next student and Rose glanced back to mouth 'good luck' for her fellow Gryffindor.

Then the door closed after them and not two seconds later Rose felt someone grab a fistful of her hair and slam her into a wall, enticing a screech of pain as the fibers were nearly ripped from her scalp.

Turning to confront the offender she found herself staring into those murky grey eyes- only now they were full of loathing and much too close for her comfort.

"Where is he?" The steady, calculated hatred in his tone was more terrifying than if he'd screamed.

"W-wha- who?" Rose tried to take a breath as she blinked to clear the reactive tears in her eyes. Despite what the boys in the clan said while they were growing up, pulling hair _hurt_ and it most certainly was _not_ fair.

That evidently wasn't what he wanted to hear since the fist in her red mane tightened even further. "Potter. Where. Is. Potter." Each word was punctuated abnormally well considering his flawless teeth were clenched the entire time.

"I- I don't..." She didn't have to ask which Potter he was referring to. Rose glanced around, wondering when someone was going to step in and help. Malfoy's hand was white knuckled as he clenched his wand. She didn't know what he wanted with James but didn't where he'd gone after he'd escorted her to class anyways. Rose opened her mouth to tell him that when Scorpius let go of her and took a step back.

Rose started to sigh in relief when the exhale halted and made a full retreat into a nervous swallow at the sight before her. She looked cross-eyed at the tip of the wand now pointed at her face and tentatively lifted her gaze into the grey eyes of its wielder. The entire class held its breath as they beheld the scene.

Her heart was racing faster than the rabbit she had just transfigured- surely he wouldn't dare, not with so many witnesses and a bloody Professor not twenty feet away.

One of the Slytherins Malfoy spent a lot of time with very hesitantly stepped forward, his empty palms spread wide. "Mate, think about what you're doing..."

For a second it seemed Scorpius would listen to his friend, then his hand flicked to perform a Bat-Bogey Hex and Rose threw her hands up instinctively as...

Nothing. A few moments later the room burst out laughing. Hesitating a heartbeat longer, thinking she now had bat ears or was the victim of some other prank, Rose slowly peeked through her fingers. The "wand" Scorpius held was now ejecting a bright red banner from its tip with the word BANG printed in large yellow letters. Rose Weasley recognized it instantly.

After all, it was a _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ product.

Rose looked from the prank toy to Malfoy and saw that for once he didn't care that the whole class was making fun at his expense. He was the victim, not her, but he only cared about one thing. She opened her mouth to tell him she hadn't a clue but was too rattled to barely even squeak.

His expression didn't falter as he silently looked at her, waiting, and Rose was struck with how pathetic she must seem. Cowering into the blackboard and shaking like a terrified puffskein, she hadn't even managed to pull up her wand let alone say a word to defend herself.

To everyone's surprise, Albus was the one who broke the silence, stepping around the desk that separated the two of them from the rest of their class. His head bowed in shame, he softly asked for their attention. "Malfoy?"

Twin storms left Rose to bore down on her cousin, and the Potter met them in a rare show of sincerity. Then he said, too quietly for anyone outside of the four of them to hear, "I'm sorry about my brother."

Scorpius's Slytherin friend steamed with anger as he realized what had happened. Albus, with the bravery of his House, kept talking despite the fact his knees were threatening to knock together beneath his robe. "He's taking Herbology right now but I'll guarantee he's skipped out early- check the greenhouses. We'll stall Patil for you as long as we can."

The stormy grey gaze jerked away, back onto Rose as Scorpius leaned toward her once more. "If I find out you knew about this, Rose Weasley, you're gonna wish that hex had worked."

Rose immediately shook her head to deny her involvement, her gaze flicking down as she licked her dry lips. She was so flustered she couldn't speak if she tried; where had her prided smarts gone?

His point made, Malfoy turned and stormed from the room- the door slamming behind him. His friend went after him a moment later, looking just as murderous and slamming the door even louder, if that was possible. While everyone stared after their dramatic departure Albus kept his eye on his cousin, who was trying to catch her breath. Her flushed red face had changed in a subtle way that only a Weasley could differentiate.

His moment of maturity over, the fourteen-year-old boy walked over to Rose and patted her shoulder sympathetically, shaking his head and mourning, "You've got it bad, girl. You've got it bad."

* * *

Scorpius could barely hear anything over the roaring rage pounding in his ears, surprised the trick wand didn't just snap in his grip. Stalking down the corridor the Malfoy was carefully running through all the darkest spells he would cast on James as soon as he got his wand back, vaguely aware of his name being called as though from down a tunnel.

Carelessly he kept walking until he was grabbed by the shoulder and spun around, looking into the scowling face of his best friend. Nott was panting with rage as he said. "I'm coming with you."

Seeing the anger clouding his friend's judgement Scorpius felt the murky fog lift from his own mind and he gripped the wrist on his shoulder in gratitude. "You need to take your final."

"I will." He set his jaw. "After I jinx his feet to the floor and hex all of his hair to fall out."

They shared a humorless grin at the image until Scorpius shook his head again. "There's no way to make it to the greenhouse and back before Patil calls for us. I won't let you fail the class too."

Nott frowned, but was coming to realize his friend was right. "You don't have a wand, how are you going to get yours from him?"

"The old fashioned way," Scorpius assured and ignored the voice in his head that asked _Are you a magic-less twit without it?_ "I'm gonna punch his lights out."

Nott looked at him doubtfully.

"Oh Joy, the little Malfoy has a new toy!"

"Peeves." They groaned in unison, watching the blue poltergeist step out from a suit of armor and wander inbetween them. "We do not have time for this."

"Time is lost, time is found, Malfoy needs to reach the ground! Peeves can tell, does Peeves know, or is he lying through his nose hahaha!"

Scorpius looked down the black suit the poltergeist wore as he tried to understand the rhyming reason. "Are you saying there's a shortcut?"

That seemed to be the right answer as the little blue man did somersaults through the air, knocking over suits of armor until he reached a portrait, where a portly man looked at him in abject terror. "Not again Peeves, please- nooo!" He cried as his frame was ruthlessly spun around by the merciless poltergeist. The picture started separating from the wall like a screw until it twisted on its side with a pop and revealed a chute behind it.

Peeves looked at him and proudly declared "Here's a way, down you go, where you wind up, _does_ Peeves know?" before he cackled some more.

Nott watched the man in the portrait lean to the side of the frame, retching, while Scorpius carefully looked at the slide, keeping the poltergeist in sight. His mind was going fast, whirling, as he asked "Why did you show us this?"

The poltergeist looked confused, jerking around in the air until he stopped in front of Scorpius again and poked him in the chest twice. "Peevesies friendzie."

Friends? His mind shot back Malam's bizarre greeting to the poltergeist and a slow grin crept over his face. Dye his hair pink and call him a pygmy puff, the girl had honestly befriended Hogwarts's biggest pest. And Scorpius, by grace of standing next to her when she did it, had gained an ally as well.

Or, the blue poltergeist was trying to dupe him like a first year mudblood.

Making up his mind Malfoy turned back to Nott, who was looking at Peeves as though he'd declared undying love for the Bloody Baron. "Get back to class." he said even as his mind churned out the new plan.

"I can't let you face James unarmed!"

"Look, if this is-" he glanced at the poltergeist, not wanting to call him a liar to his face. "-if this _as fast_ as Peeves says it is then there's a chance I could actually make it back in time. But only if you tell everyone to go as slowly as possible, ask stupid questions if they have to, and get the bratty Potter- Albus," this was the first time Scorpius ever thought of his classmate by his first name, "to make the Gryffindors do the same."

Nott still looked doubtful, but a glance back toward their classroom let Scorpius know he was considering at least. "I don't like letting you go alone."

Peeves, seemingly bored, stopped blowing raspberries at the motion-sick portrait to say "Alone down he must go, otherwize, _kabloom!_ he goes."

"You see?" Scorpius tried not to seem unnerved about the prospect of Peeves making him explode as he swung his feet into the chute. "Not a choice, mate."

"Scorpius?" Nott waited until his friend looked him in the eye before demanding "Be careful. Jump him before he casts anything."

Malfoy nodded, already planning the quickest route to search the seven greenhouses as he pushed off the ledge and down into the dark. Nott watched after him until the portrait spun and locked back into place, it's inhabitant falling over in a dead faint.

He and Peeves stared at eachother in silence, until the poltergeist turned invisible. The Slytherin sighed and started walking back to class only to jump when someone grabbed his nose from behind and shouted in his ear.

"GOT YER CONK!"

* * *

Kingsley had decided to check in on Jonovan's progress and invite the boy to break with him over a late lunch, finding a ghost writing on the board and talking to an empty classroom. "Professor Binns?"

"And in the case of the Giant Wars- hm? Oh, yes, mister Stanley?"

Kingsley suffered a moment of deja-vu as the Professor called him by the same wrong name he had during seven years of his childhood, but shook it off. "Where did your assistant go?"

"My assistant?" The ghost repeated in confusion, and for a moment Kingsley worried the ghost had even forgotten what he was lecturing about. "I was under the impression that he would be assigned to a different class. I need no 'assistance', I assure you."

"Of course," the Minister assured and back out of the room quickly. He wasn't going to be the one that told Binns his tenure as a Hogwarts Professor was reaching its end. He had more important things to do.

Like manage the entire Ministry of Magic, and figure out where his two charges had got off to this time.

* * *

Two seconds after entering the chute Scorpius decided maybe he didn't want to. It was pitch black, cramped, cobwebbed and most notably, there was a screeching sound that made his teeth vibrate.

He was sure he ate at least three spiders on accident as he was forced down a near-vertical drop that went on without end, his mindset of using the trip to plan forgotten as he scrambled for a purchase to slow himself down. His nails clicked against the stone and he felt the tread on his shoes start to come off, but all he managed to do was bloody his hand when he tore a fingernail.

Seriously worried that his teeth would shatter like glass from the noise, Scorpius reluctantly admitted he had no choice but to resign himself to whatever fate Peeves had sentenced him to. Never should've trusted a poltergeist, he swore as the trip just kept getting longer and longer.

Peeves' little dance and jig as he shouted the word _kabloom!_ kept running through his mind as Malfoy closed his eyes and covered his ears, feeling as though he was below the castle and perhaps traveling toward the infamous Chamber of Secrets itself.

Then light started playing at the back of his eyelids and he slowly opened them to see shimmering white lines dash by him on the round tunnel he was falling through. He narrowed his eyes in thought, letting them adjust to the brightness as he considered what could cast shadows like this.

 _Water reflections_ was barely a notion in his head before he was submerged, bubbles trailing after him as his momentum carried him deeper down through the clear liquid. Then his infinite fall came to an abrupt end as his feet struck something hard, and Scorpius was pinned to the ground with a thousand gallons of water pressing him in place.

What a disappointing way to go, drowning, was his very distant thought. A whole world of magical monsters and adventure, and it seemed Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy may as well have jumped off the First Year boats before he even went inside Hogwarts.

When the wall shifted behind him his eyes snapped back open, certain his oxygen-deprived brain had imagined it. Then the wall broke and he was falling back down once again. He experienced a very disorienting sensation as his back broke through the surface of the water and he was suddenly airborne, a hundred feet above a giant lake of clear blue water with the metal wall in the air with him. An unfamiliar mountain loomed in the distance.

He screamed as he started to fall and, at this point, felt it was quite all right for even a Malfoy to do so. The wall knocked into his shoulder painfully and as they spun away from each other his hyperactive senses noticed it was smaller than he remembered it. The ground was closer than it should have been by now and the lake had a large dam surrounding it.

Scorpius watched in astonishment as they all kept getting smaller and it was only when he saw the 'distant mountain' was really a gargoyle statue that he realized it was actually him was getting bigger.

He landed on soft grass with no more force than if he'd sat down and watched, bemused, as the 'wall' he'd been trapped by landed a few feet away and was no bigger than his notebooks. A glance around let him know was at the bottom of the Hogwarts Grounds, next the courtyard fountain overlooking the Herbology Greenhouses. Exactly where he had wanted to be.

Scorpius nervously ran a hand through his hair and was shocked to find it dry as a History of Magic lecture, proceeding to check himself over in astonishment. Other than a bruise on his right shoulder and his bleeding finger, he was fine and completely dry despite his ordeal. He even, he noticed with a trace of pride in himself, still had a firm grip on the trick wand.

"Ahem." The gargoyle had moved from its pedestal to sit on the fountain wall, paw outstretched as it looked at the student that had just exploded from his plumbing.

"Oh, right." The Slytherin scrambled to his feet, grabbing the hated wall and handing it to the stone construction. It took it without a word and set the grate- _the impenetrable wall had been a grate_ \- back in it's place at the bottom of the fountain. Then the gargoyle reclaimed the pedestal and, with what might have been a glare at Malfoy, resumed a pose.

Scorpius looked down at the six-inch pipe he'd come out of and decided that no matter what happened, he was never taking advice from Peeves again.

* * *

Zoey blinked at the spectacled boy in front of her. "Rainbata leaves? Is that what these are?"

"Don't act stupid." His face grew red as he gripped a stick at his side. "You know exactly what those are and what they're worth."

"I'm not _acting_ stupid." her instinctive reply threw him off as she put her latest batch of leaves on the table. Then she picked one of them up and inspected it as she leaned against the table, voicing the many questions about the plant that had been bothering her while she worked. "These are called Rainbata? Why do they change colors? Is there a pattern to how they change? And why do they keep changing colors after they're plucked? Shouldn't they just shrivel and blacken, or will they do that eventually?"

The boy looked at her, then scowled. "Stop trying to distract me and tell me why you're stealing leaves worth six Sickles apiece from Professor Longbottom."

"Six Sickles each? That's not very fair," Zoey looked at the many leaves she had gathered. "They're not all the same size, I mean, some of them are larger than the others so a flat price for all of them really doesn't seem-"

Her gaze jerked up and she twisted aside as a beam of magic shot by her when the boy cried _"Stupefy!"_

The sizzling taste of the near-miss let her know the spell had been meant to immobilize, though the close proximity of his magic had broken the unvisibility Jon had given her. As always Zoey's mouth kept running while her mind took it's time to analyse this. "-like an even evaluation process. Weight would probably be a better measure. Is it it based off one of those potions things where the count is most important, like an ingredient being three hairs even if those three hairs were one before somebody cut it?"

Her babbling, she knew, would lead him to underestimate her. And her sensei always said surprising an opponent was even more useful than a weapon in a fight. Why this person was acting so _hostile_ was still a mystery, but the Malam trusted her instincts and was ready as always to fight fire with fire.

The blue spell hit an empty pot behind her and shattered it, making her take yet another step closer to him to avoid the shards. Growing a bit pale and glancing in the direction of the other greenhouses the boy quickly waved his wand and muttered _"Reparo"_ , the scattered pieces fitting themselves together like a complicated jigsaw. Zoey's eyebrows rose at the unblemished pot he recreated. She filed that away as one of the potential benefits of having one of those sticks.

He pointed the stick at her again and threatened "Start walking." and Zoey did, gently extending her empty hands toward the air while she backed out of the greenhouse.

"Look, man, I wasn't stealing anything. I was just-"

"Then why were you sneaking around here invisible?" He reasoned. "Don't tell me this is your first time; I'll bet you're the ghost the castle's been talking about. Been stealing for a while, haven't you?"

"I'm a what?" She asked, amused, then cleared her throat. "Well, I'll admit I'm not really supposed to be here right now but that doesn't mean I was-"

"Enough excuses," He interrupted, and twisted his stick down the covered walkway. "I'm bringing you in to see what Professor Longbottom has to say about this."

"'Bringing you in'?" Her eyebrows rose in indignation, even as her heart hammered while she walked under his direction. Jon would kill her if she got caught on their last day here. "Who says you can do that to me? Right now it's your word against mine."

He shouted another spell at her in the narrow passage, and seemed even more flustered when she dodged it once again, easily dashing to the side as she shifted neatly from one foot the the other. She started and stopped in a deceptively casual stance, all of her weight on one bent leg and her other foot barely touching the ground, allowing her to slide it quickly in any direction to move when she next needed to. This attack tasted more like cotton, and she started judging the distance between her and his weapon as she demanded "Well? Why does a student have the right to take me anywhere?"

"I'm _James Serius Potter_ , Harry Potter's son, and you-"

"Does it matter who your dad is?" Zoey titled her head. "We were talking about you, right?"

He flushed with anger once again, and he fixed his glasses with his free hand. "He defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. The Chosen One, the Master of Death, The Boy Who Lived..." His voice trailed off at the complete lack of recognition on her face.

Realizing he was waiting for her to comment, the Malam said the first thing that came to mind. "What a surprise, your dad lived through being a boy."

When he lifted his stick in a silent threat Zoey took the chance to cross her hands in front of her as though cowering, fingering a charm that dangled from her right wrist. " _Don't_ insult my father."

"Sorry! Sorry," She apologized, her fingers tingling upon her silver charm bracelet before she decided to release it anyways. If she used that there would be no hope of Kingsley not finding out. "I just felt we were getting off track, that's all."

James grinned again, almost gleefully as he pulled the stick over his head. "Yeah, I rekon we were."

"Hey Potter!" someone cried at her assailant and ran down the hallway towards them.

The boy's surprised start delayed his attack, and he turned to the right. After just a few seconds his face paled again and he cried "Petrificus Totalus!"

His distraction was all Zoey needed as she sunk her weight and shot her right foot forward, reaching James in a single bounding step and hitting his arm. His third and last spell passed overhead harmlessly as the strike deflected it. Zoethia mused she was lucky the boy had so little combat experience.

She was vaguely aware of a shout, but concentrated on her opponent, who was quickly realizing their sudden proximity. Her left hand gripped the tip of the stick in his hand and her right came up to strike his inner arm as her left leg caught up with her. Holding on to the tingling wood with all her might Zoey pulled her arms in and spun out of his guard, her right wrist forcing the handle of the wand out of the boy's grip as she twisted away.

She stepped away from James quickly, and though she felt decidedly dizzy, she was triumphantly holding the stick he'd been threatening her with not five seconds ago. Zoey shook her head to try and clear it, but it only made things worse and the world spun for a few nauseating moments, made harder to stomach by the smacking sound that came a few seconds later. When she finally rediscovered up from down there was a tall back in front of her, white-blond hair reaching the collar of green lined robes that separated her from James.

The back turned and revealed a startlingly familiar set of grey eyes that looked surprised to see her, so she just grinned and walked stiff-legged to the boy that was unconscious on the floor with a black eye. She sat down next to James to make sure he was really unconscious, pinching and poking him to check for muscle twitches, then returned the stick she had taken.

As she tucked it into his pocket she found it already occupied by a different stick that was very familiar. She pulled it out of the James-boy's robe and looked at her ally from her sitting position. She was still very suddenly dizzy and doubted she could stand, let alone walk over to him.

"So Malfoy," she said breathlessly, deliberately making herself say it slowly to fight the adrenaline that still coursed through her, "Are you a magic-less twit now?"


	6. Ch 6 Finishing Buisiness

**Ch 6. Finishing Business**

* * *

Seven greenhouses, Malfoy counted as he scrambled down the hill as fast as his feet could take him, skidding across the steep grass rather than take the winding pathwalk. Six to search, if James really was skipping his final in Greenhouse Five. Scorpius was mapping the quickest route between them when a blue light flashed through the glass walls of Greenhouse Two.

Magic, and Scorpius just knew it was Potter's. Swerving to the right, he changed course for the greenhouse that would have been his third stop. He looked through the glass and saw Potter talking to someone, and his anger simmered as he realized that of course the Legacy prat would brag about his latest success to everyone he could.

As he got closer he was forced to start taking the pathways. Professor Longbottom had a lot of protection spells set against anyone who dared walk on his garden. Sneaking glances through the thick glass, he'd just reached the hallway the two people stood in when Potter cried " _Silencio!"_

Instinct swerved him back around the corner, and the Slytherin had to remind himself that he didn't have a real wand to fight with at the moment. He dropped the toy in disgust. Peeking around the corner, he expected James and his friend to shoot him immediately but found their attention entirely on each other.

The short, brown-haired girl had her hands raised as she demanded "Well? Why does a _student_ have the right to take me anywhere?"

Malfoy's eyebrows drew together as he wondered why one of Potter's fangirls would turn down the chance to go somewhere... 'secluded' together.

"I'm _James Serius Potter_ , Harry Potter's son, and you-"

"Does it matter who your dad is? We were talking about you, right?"

Ho-ho, Scorpius grinned as he saw the flash of anger in Potter's eye. Not a fangirl at all, he mused as he waited for a chance to get closer while their banter continued. It only got more entertaining as the prat started listing his dad's accomplishments and was met with oozing indifference.

There was a moment of ominous silence before the girl said in a manner that only a female could "What a surprise, your dad lived through being a _boy_."

Potter threatened her and she cowered in a way that reminded him of what he had happened in the Transfiguration classroom. But while Rose's submission had placated his raging beast, the sight of this girl being cowed made his blood boil all the more. He had known his threat was empty with the trick wand he'd been holding, but this small girl was in serious danger.

Forgoing his hiding place Scorpius dashed around the corner when James lifted his wand to cast a spell, shouting "Hey Potter!" down the glass corridor even as he was defenseless.

James's attention turned to him and his face paled at the anger that was overflowing from Malfoy's presence. His fear let Scorpius get a bit closer, but not close enough before James gathered his wits and started to cast _Petrificus Totalus_.

The girl rammed into James just as the spell was released and it bounced off the glass hallway. Scorpius's heart stuttered when Potter looked down in anger. He shouted again in a poor attempt to keep him distracted. "You've got something that belongs to me, Potter."

He was within arm's reach of James when the girl grabbed the wand and stepped away with it in a motion that was obviously smooth and practiced but still escaped Malfoy's understanding. James looked at his empty hand and started after her but the Slytherin seized the opportunity to step in front of his rival, smirking down at him.

Funny. At the start of this year James had been taller than him.

"I don't hit people wearing glasses," He plucked the spectacles off Potter's nose, tucked them into the Gryffindor's pocket with a pat and softly added "but everyone know's yours are a costume piece." before his left hand shot out and hit James with an echoing _smack._

One punch, and the source of all his frustrations was splayed helplessly on the ground. Malfoy reveled in the swell of empowerment that came with his satisfaction, and was about to seize the opportunity to give the prone boy a few good kicks when a small sound from behind reminded him that he wasn't alone.

Malfoy turned to the girl and was instantly struck with how petite she was. Her chocolate warm hair was pulled back from her face to reveal long eyelashes, and trembling hands that were dwarfed by the wand she still grasped. He opened his mouth to question how she'd gotten into this situation when her eyes flicked up to meet his and he was frozen by familiar green eyes meeting his.

She smiled, tight lipped, and moved around him to kneel next to James. Her striped stockings reached mid-thigh as she poked Potter mercilessly for a few moments and Scorpius smirked as he realized he wasn't the only one who had wanted to take advantage of the situation.

When she reached into the Gryffindor robe to return Potter's wand and sat back with Scorpius's in her hand instead, a funny little smile crossed her face.

He finally recognized Malam in the instant before she asked him, with a tone of satisfied curiosity, "So Malfoy... are you a magic-less twit now?"

* * *

There was a vortex in the Library today. At least, that was the rumor spreading through the halls as Kingsley turned down a corridor on his way to the area in question. He should've guessed that the young, soon-to-be Professor's Assistant would go there first; Jonovan's mind was always seeking answers for infinite questions- even if those queries had yet to be shared.

It turned out that Orion was in aisle 12, the shelves in this section lined with old tomes depicting the rise of magic and it's unending volumes of history. There was no vortex in sight, although at present most of the books were indeed swirling lazily around a seemingly empty chair. Looking closer, the Minister could make out the ghostly form of Jonovan as he mused through a book entitled _Wandlore: History and Theories_.

Without looking up from the text, Jonovan made himself visible again and mused, "Listen to this: 'It is believed that the first wand was created over two thousand years ago, with their magical properties having been experimented upon and explored throughout recorded history until modern day'. Interesting that a book quoting 'a complete and detailed history' glazed so smoothly over the origin of its topic."

"Orion, you can't conjure up a tempered storm inside the school's library- It's causing a fright amongst the students."

"Supposedly wands choose their witch or wizard 'in a way that is neither random nor serendipitous'." Jon continued, fingering through a few more pages as if he hadn't heard Kingsley, "There's a large accumulation of wandlore and botanical knowledge about the cores and exteriors of wands, listed correlations between similar wands owned by similar people- but there's next to nothing that explains how a wand 'chooses' their owner... or why certain people are not chosen at all. Semi-sentient is hardly an acceptable explanation."

The Minister shifted uncomfortable. "I wouldn't say 'not at all', Jonovan."

"Wouldn't you?" His eyes pinned the man into place. "It's been three years of failed efforts, Kingsley. And you still haven't found a wand to take Zoey."

It was notable he didn't mention that they'd also yet to find a wand that would accept him, but the lad had always been more concerned about his younger friend. Kingsley sighed, "That may be so, but the answers won't be in a mere school book. We've approached all the master wandmakers we've found, consulted every record including Ollivander's and Gregorovitch's-"

"And yet no positive results." Jon summarized with a wry smile, "Hence I thought starting with the basics couldn't hurt. After all, the master wandmakers started from the same place; there may be some factor they missed."

"Well one point _you_ missed is that the library does not allow the use of magic within it's walls." Kinsley reminded, glancing meaningfully at the swarm of books meandering around them. Orion blinked, eyebrows raising in surprise and he waved his hand, sending the books flying back to their respective places on the dusty racks.

As for the one Jonovan had personally removed, he closed it with a snap, brushing off some of the remaining dust from the cover. Putting it back between two thick, leatherbound books where he'd found it, he commented with faux casualness "You know, Minister, it would be rather hard for a student to attend this school without a wand. At the very least it would raise unending questions."

Kingsley nodded, understanding the underlying implication. "We'll find her a wand before summers end, Jonovan. I can't make any assured promises, but I give you my word we'll try our best."

Satisfied with his statement, Jonovan turned with a smile, his attitude shifting nearly as fast as his metamorphmagus skill, "Sounds like a plan, Minister. What do you we take a walk outside? It would be a shame to waste such a nice day indoors."

* * *

Malfoy's wand was lighter than it looked, and it tingled quite pleasantly in Zoey's hand, unlike the other one that had prickled at her. She sat back on her ankles to get a better look at the dark wood in her hand.

" _Malam?_ "

"Yes Malfoy?" She answered as she was hit with another wave of dizziness, setting a hand on the floor to steady herself. What was wrong with her?

The blond Slytherin looked her over. "Your hair is brown."

Zoey looked up, as if she could see it, "So it is."

"... It was blue on Saturday."

"You can't expect it to say blue all day, now can you?" She lifted his stick toward him, bouncing it at him with every word of her next sentences and not noticing the way he jumped away from the tip. "You're evading the question. Are you, a magic-less twit?"

He took his wand from her willing hands gingerly but grasped it firmly once it was back in his grip, the subtle relaxing of his jaw giving Zoey the answer he refused to say. He rubbed it clean on his robes and looked down the hallways, saying "We should get going before Longbottom releases his class."

After a noncommittal hum she said "You go, I'm gonna stay here for a little bit."

"Don't be daft," Malfoy gripped her arm to pull her to her feet and nodded to the boy they'd knocked out through joint effort. "How are you gonna explain _him_ when everyone else arrives?"

Her mind churned through this unusually slowly before she nodded. "Right" and took a step forward, only her foot missed the ground. Malfoy's firm grip barely caught her as she pitched down like a toppled shelf. Her face was a few inches from the floor- or was it the ceiling?- as she felt a bit of bile rise in her throat. Then she said in a voice that was surprisingly calm even to her, "I don't think walking's a good idea right now."

Apparently the boy agreed as he helped her into a sitting position, a perplexed- and was that concern?- frown crossing his features. "Are you okay? Did you get hexed?" His voice was slightly delayed and echoey as she shook her head. She was certain she'd avoided all three of those spells, and none of them would have done _this_. She firmly decided that she hated whatever _this_ was.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with shaking hands and his eyes targeted it immediately. "What's that?"

"Hm?" Zoey glanced at the appendage hazily, "That's my hand. Four fingers and a thumb. I have another one. You have two of them too, by the way."

He gripped it and Zoey vaguely noticed how much bigger and more calloused his hands were than hers. "I meant _this,_ " he said and tilted her hand, to reveal iridescent powder on her palm that caught and reflected the light.

She was unconcerned- they _were_ in a greenhouse after all, "Tha's just dirt." she assured him as he grabbed both of her wrists in a single hand. The slur in her words made her wince- great, now she couldn't even speak properly.

"No it's not." He announced, pulling out his stick and muttering a long word that her mind couldn't follow at the moment. A stream of water poured out of the tip and hosed her hands off.

"Coo'." She commented, barely noticing the slur this time.

He didn't glance up as he made sure to wipe off every speck. "That was Rainbata powder."

"Wainbata," She blinked up at him, her mind trying to assemble pieces of information together. "Colorfu' weaves?"

He nodded and looked between her and the greenhouse down the hall. "Did you handle some?"

She thought of the huge stacks of leaves she'd gathered and nodded, "On'y a few."

"Why?" His gaze was bobbing back and forth between her eyes, and Zoey wondered if they were bloodshot.

"...They were pretty."

Well, at least the slur was gone.

Malfoy looked at her incredulously for a few moments, then sighed and rolled his eyes to the heavens. "You need to get out of here." He decided and reached for her.

"Wait, what're you- hold on-" her protests fell on deaf ears as Malfoy tucked one arm under her knees and the other around her back, hefting her from the ground easily.

She was surprisingly light, he thought as he adjusted his grip on her. "I'd use a spell to levitate you, but you're dizzy enough already."

"That's fine," she quickly assured and stopped wriggling immediately, though found it awkward to stare up at his chin so she looked up the path they were following instead. She noticed his left knuckles quickly swelling and surmised that Malfoy would have some serious bruising for a couple of days. "Was that the first time you punched somebody?"

His arms tensed, holding her closer to him as he declared "He deserved it."

"Did he?" She asked softly, then asked curiously "Did he take your stick?"

She whimpered quietly when his grip tensed again and he forced himself to relax it, his jaw clenched with anger as he said "Yes."

"Stole it?"

"Yes."

"So you decided to punch him?"

"Yes."

"Good." He started and looked down at her, and she smiled at his expression. "What? Just because I don't understand why you _need_ a stick, Malfoy, doesn't mean I feel it's okay to steal something important. Besides," she declared with a pout, "he was being a jerk."

"He was." Malfoy agreed, and seemed content with leaving their conversation there.

Zoey's curiosity was coming back with her higher brain functions, though. "Hey Malfoy? What does that powder do?"

He sighed and Zoey got the feeling he didn't really want to talk, until he answered with precision "Rainbata leaves are used in the advanced formulas for the Forgetfulness Potion. They're used in creating Remembralls too."

She felt a spark of hope and wriggled a bit so his arm stopped digging into her back. "So I'm gonna forget this?"

"I wish," he grumbled. "But no, you're just going to feel disassociated for a while. Maybe longer than a while, judging by the amount of powder that was on your hands."

" _You_ wish? You're not the one that tripped over air and reminded somebody what hands are."

It sounded like he tried to hold back his chuckle but wasn't quite able to. "You shouldn't try walking for at least an hour."

She stuck her tongue out at his amusement, but a moment later tucked her chin down and mumbled. "Thank you."

"For what?"

His flat tone, she decided, was something he used when he wanted to hide his surprise or interest. "Not making fun of me."

* * *

Scorpius looked down at the head of brown hair, seeing the pink cheeks below it grow a bit darker. His frown returned, "Why would I do that?" Although he enjoyed mocking the Legacies, he usually didn't laugh at others- unless they laughed at him first. However, there was a soft teasing note in in his voice even as he said it.

The thin shoulders just shrugged, the action made clumsy by the girls position against his chest, "Dunno," she said, "But I really don't know you that well, Malfoy."

"Ditto, Malam." Scorpius replied, "You still haven't told me your first name."

She grinned a challenge at him with her green eyes. "I know."

"Alright, then," He sighed, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I guess I'll just have to call you Wainbata. Wainbata Malam."

"Hey!" She pushed back from him and was glad that she succeeding to put some strength behind the her actions now.

Scorpius shrugged, still finding no trouble holding her shifting frame to him even as he started up the many stairs, "Well I can't keep calling you Malam, and if you don't tell me your first name, then I'll just have to make one up for you... Wainbata."

Now Malam was _really_ flushed pink as she kept squirming. "We have a deal, Malfoy. Yours first."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow, "But I don't think I want to know your 'real' first name now, Wainbata. So if you want me to change my mind you should give me a reason to."

Her glare only made him want to laugh, but he held it back as he focused on his feet. He didn't want them to fall down the steep hill.

"...ia Malam."

Scorpius only heard the end of her muttered words, and he finally let his grin escape as he asked, oh-so-innocently, "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. What did you say?"

" _I said,_ " Malam huffed and threw her ponytail over her shoulder with a practiced flick of her head. "My name is Zoethia Malam."

"Zoethia." He repeated, rolling it off his tongue as he made sure to pronounce all three syllables. "Zo-e-thia Malam."

"And? It's your turn, Malfoy. Live up to your end of the bargain."

"It's funny," he said slowly as his grin grew even wider. "But I don't remember actually agreeing to that deal of yours."

Zoethia scowled, "What, did you get some Rainbata powder on you too? You promised-"

"Nothing." Scorpius finished, "I made no promises regarding any telling of my namesake. _You_ assumed."

"But you- you just- that's-" She gaped like a fish for a few more steps before she finally huffed and looked away from him again. "Now _you're_ being the jerk, Malfoy."

"Oh? You going to punch me too?"

Her mouth twitched. "Eventually, yes."

Scorpius left it at that as he finally reached the courtyard fountain that he'd been aiming for. He sat them down on the ledge and looked her in the eyes, relieved her pupils were back to being the same size. "You should know better than to mess around with unknown magical plants." he scolded.

"I do _now_ ," she mumbled and dipped a small hand into the fountain. Scorpius followed it and winced when he saw the grate.

He could have sworn he heard a dry chuckle, and the Slytherin snapped his head up to see the gargoyle lazily flick its tongue at him. Distracted, Malfoy tried to get back into their conversation. "You'll be fine, Malam. You just need to wait it out."

Her eyes narrowed but she didn't frown as he'd expected. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," Scorpius felt a bit of trepidation settle in his gut. "I'm late."

Malam grabbed his sleeve as he stood to leave and for a second he thought she was going to ask him to stay, but instead she demanded "Leave your robe."

He blinked once and said in monotone "What?"

Smiling at something he didn't get, Malam repeated herself "Let me borrow your robe. I'll need to blend in when people come around."

He looked between the two of them and spoke slowly, wondering whether the powder was still affecting her thinking. "You're a bit smaller than I am, Wainbata."

Now she frowned, and her hand shot forward to flick him on the forehead. "Ow," he rubbed the spot and looked at her incredulously.

"I know _that_ , genius. But it'll still be better than this." She gestured to her attire, which once again included short shorts and those striped leggings.

Without another protest Malfoy slipped off the school robe, comfortable in his green and black Slytherin shirt. He helped her balance while she put it on and sat down heavily again, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You'll be fine, right?" he asked before he could stop himself. If she said 'no' then he'd be caught between helping and passing his final.

But she waved his concern off with small hand, her bracelet shimmering in the setting sunlight. "Get going, Malfoy. You've done plenty."

Despite her choice of words nothing about her seemed upset, so he nodded and started running back to the castle, leaving her to fend for herself. Taking stairs two or three at a time, sliding through all his shortcuts and almost- but not quite- wishing Peeves would show him another perfectly placed one, Scorpius flew through the halls as though the Dark Lord himself were at his heels.

* * *

Rose Weasley and everybody else looked over after the door to the Transfiguration room slammed open to admit a panting Scorpius. All eyes immediately traveled to his hand, in which he clutched a wand- his own, by the shape of it- and Rose's eyebrows drew together as she realized he'd lost his school robe somewhere.

Scorpius wiped a layer of sweat from his brow, looking around the room and noticing Galleons trading hands as wagers were lost and won, a third of the classroom departing.

His trademark scowl appeared on his face and he walked up to his Slytherin friend to demand breathlessly between pants "People... put... _bets..._ on me?"

"Hey, I said you'd make it back in time. Odds of three to one." said his friend, who was next in line to take the test. At present he was counting his winnings rather than worrying about his exam.

Scorpius nodded sagely and reached out to take half of the money from his friend, his humor apparently returning with his energy. "And you only risked four galleons? I'm insulted."

"It was all I had on me."

Malfoy visibly halted, then Rose felt her jaw drop as he handed the gold back to his friend. She'd been certain he was going to demand a share of it. As though sensing her attention his stormy eyes snapped to her, the only person who had finished the test to stay in the room. "So Rose," he drawled lazily, "Who did you bet on?"

Rose swallowed and forced her spine to straighten, folding her hands in her lap as she declared "I don't gamble."

Malfoy scoffed, "Right. Much too improper for a young lady, isn't it?"

Her face was bright red and she opened her mouth to respond and say that, regardless of proper, she'd still waited to see if he'd make it back, when the door to the chamber opened and a sullen-looking Albus trudged out.

Professor Patil looked around the much-emptied room in surprise for a moment, and Scorpius's friend took the chance to lean over and whisper something in his ear. Malfoy shot him a surprised glance but stayed quiet until the Professor took him away for the final, then turned to Albus.

"Hey Potter." He easily gained the boy's attention, and the entire room's, when he spoke. Scorpius hesitated visibly, then said "I hear you were helpful while I was gone. Good work." and the words didn't choke him.

"Least I could do." He mumbled and looked up tentatively, and Rose felt a swell of pride in her cousin. "Rose helped too. Everyone thought you deserved a chance." Shifting eyes in the group revealed that wasn't entirely true, but it didn't seem to surprise nor bother Scorpius. He looked down his nose at Rose, and she felt her knees go weak.

"I owe you both." he finally said, and Albus toppled into a desk in surprise.

Ignoring her bumbling cousin, Rose finally found her voice and said "You don't owe anyone anything. We were just- making up for our deplorable cousin."

He narrowed his gaze at her, then Scorpius smiled, actually _smiled_ at Rose Weasley. "Seems we can agree on something, then."

"Of course. Besides" She looked to the side and let her thick red hair fall forward to hide the blush she felt spreading, and scrambled to find something that would finish her ill-considered sentence. She said the first thing that sprung to mind "I felt I owed _you_ something for beating you at all the Finals we've taken so far."

His smile vanished which had Rose immediately regretting her choice of words, and she vainly tried to think of something to bring it back. Nothing sprung to mind and they stared at each other until Professor Patil called Scorpius in for his long-awaited final.

Albus pulled her out of the room and sat her on a bench in the hallway, where he looked at his cousin in pity for the second time that day. "What did you go and say that for?"

" _I panicked_ ," She whispered fiercely as she buried her face in her hands. "I wasn't planning to say anything and I didn't want to stop midway through a sentence because then I'd sound so _stupid_ and I didn't know what to say and just- I panicked," she sniffled a bit, "I'm so stupid."

"I've noticed." He mumbled, rubbing her back in soothing circles. "How long has this been happening?"

"Second year." She mourned, relieved to finally tell someone about it. Her cousin didn't judge her, just sitting with her in silence until she calmed down.

Then the door opened and Scorpius waltzed out of the classroom, looking at them with entertainment lighting his eye. "Interesting thing happened during the test, Weasley. Patil checked the paws of my Lapifors rabbit and complimented me on changing his claws. Any ideas why?"


	7. Ch 7 Family Ties

**Ch 7. Family Ties**

* * *

St. Mungo's, as always, held the mourning aura of grieving wizards. It was as though the building itself understood the strife of its many occupants, and echoed silence rather than sound to show sympathy.

Scorpius and his parents walked in silence as well, but theirs wasn't restricted to the mournful occasion. Malfoys had always felt actions spoke louder than words. They had been here so many times over the last three months of the summer they no longer needed a guide, and the receptionist recognized them on sight. Scorpius watched his father gently brush his mother's arm, who then reached down and gripped his hand for comfort.

Walking on the other side of his mother Scorpius found himself tempted to do the same, then he firmly reminded himself he was fourteen years old and didn't need his mother holding his hand.

A few seconds later though when she put her hand on his shoulder, he didn't brush it away.

The three of them walked that way into the Intensive Care ward, and tensely walked into the private room to see Lucius Malfoy resting calmly in his bed. His face was pale and his body was gaunt, and the sight of their paternal authoritarian deep asleep let the rest of the Malfoys breathe a sigh of relief.

The youngest Malfoy watched his father pull up a chair next to his grandfather silently, resting his elbows on the bed while staring at the face that had once commanded respect and dignity but now only looked tired. Scorpius put away the dead flowers that sat on the bedside table and refilled the vase with water, letting his mother use a summoning spell to conjure more daisies before she sat down as well.

He would have made Grandfather Lucius birds of paradise, but though his wand rested in his pocket he wasn't allowed to use it for another week. It didn't feel quite right to go back to Hogwarts while his grandfather was still recovering from a heart attack, but he didn't want to relinquish his education either and doubted Father would have let him do so anyways.

They sat in silence for half an hour, until a tear silently rolled down Father's cheek. Two more joined it before Mother noticed, and when she raised her white handkerchief to wipe them off it seemed to release a flood. Scorpius watched in stunned silence as his father's shoulders started to shake with stifled sobs, and realized the man was preparing himself to say a final goodbye to his own father.

This was not something he was supposed to see. His father certainly wouldn't want him to, so Scorpius darted out the door without hesitation.

Scorpius had only seen his father that vulnerable once before, and he did not like reliving that memory. Setting his face and walking away faster, he realized he couldn't even go home. The receptionist would ask why he was leaving without his folks and they in turn may not realize he'd left.

Rubbing his temples, Scorpius decided to wait in the dining room where visitors could eat and talk to the patients capable of making the trip. Lucius had yet to join them, but the Malfoys sometimes suffered one of their tasteless meals after visiting. His parents would probably check for him there.

He had to walk through the reception desk again to get there, and as he expected the lady behind the desk asked why he was alone. Feeling like letting out his bad mood, he blatantly ignored her as he filled a cup of cold water at the fountain, where a group of trainees was talking about what was apparently an interesting patient.

"...keeps suffering repeated amnesia for no apparent reason. Head Healer's baffled," He heard one Healer comment to the other. "Been here nine years, the poor woman, but she's convinced it's only been a week. Always asking about her husband, too. Only thing she ever seems to remember properly is her daughter."

"Still gets visits, then? That's kind."

"Bit painful, honestly. Breaks my heart every time to have to tell her that we haven't learned anything new…"

It seemed in some ways, Scorpius mused as he walked away, they were fortunate this was happening so fast. Then again there was nothing truely fortunate about their situation.

He sat down in the empty diner and stared at his reflection in the cup of water. Unnerved by the silence and worried where his thoughts might lead on their own, Scorpius willfully turned his mind to someone else's problem. He wondered how someone could live in denial of the truth for so long. His father had accepted defeat after two and a half months. He caught his mother crying about it a few weeks before that. And he? He'd been resigned since they'd gotten an owl saying Grandfather had collapsed.

Sitting alone while one man in his family lay dying and another grieved in the arms of his wife, Scorpius wondered at which point hope went from courageous to painful.

* * *

Harry Potter was doomed to live a busy life. While the wizarding world may think that defeating Tom Riddle was the climax of his achievements, it had only led to a long and exhausting career as an Auror in the reclaimed Ministry of Magic.

First, there had been the Dark Wizards that had tried to seize control of the Death Eaters in the power vacuum created after Tom Riddle, better known by society as Lord Voldemort or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, died that night in Hogwarts and became a martyr to his followers. That had taken years to clean up. Then when Kingsley Shacklebolt was appointed Minister he recruited Harry, Ron and Hermione to reconstruct the British Ministry of Magic from the bottom up to 'purge lingering corruption'. Harry had spent many sleepless nights worrying about the people they kept and those they let go, wondering if he had perhaps made a mistake in either direction.

Thank god for Hermione's talent in Magical Law; it shouldn't have surprised him that her words proved to be just as skillful as her wand. With the same determination she had once faced her N.E.W.T.s, the witch ruthlessly set forth to redesign the Wizengamot Court System to be entirely fair to all wizards, muggle or wizard-born. Somehow she even found time to officially incorporate S.P.E.W. in the Ministry Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures.

Ron had helped them both while he could, but George's depression over losing his twin had cast a shadow over the Weasley family and the career had never really suited him, so Ron's early retirement from the Ministry was no shock to anyone. He now works as a business-partner in _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ , something that suited the tall red-head well, and having a brother around again had lifted George's spirit immensely. He would still stare at some of their original products with misty eyes, but then, Fred would have been insulted if his twin hadn't learned to laugh again.

When Harry was appointed Head of the Auror Office he expected things to slow down, and was quite ready for the biggest problem of the day to be which form went where and what flowers he should get Ginny on the way home. Magical paperwork, though, went absurdly quick and the promotion largely resulted in Harry being called away to consult on more issues and arriving back only to sign off a few hundred forms before flooing home to land, exhausted, in his bed.

After a while though Harry got the hang of his job, and was able to make time to raise his three wonderful children with Ginny. He made sure they watched every every one of their mom's Holyhead Harpies games as they'd grown up, and all of his children knew the rules of Quidditch by heart. He hardly ever needed to leave his Auror's office for the field anymore as the tumult of the Second Wizarding War settled down, and after twenty-three years Harry's heart no longer pounded in apprehension when he received a request to visit the Minister.

His comfort was rattled when he arrived outside the Minister's embossed door to find Hermione there as well, then it turned into full-out dread when _Ron_ arrived with a visitors badge on his chest. The three of them looked at each other in silence for an uncomfortable minute.

Hermione looked at her husband and as always was the first to speak. "Ronald, I thought you said you renewed your shop license last week."

"I did," he said, looking mildly offended. "Kingsley sent me a letter today saying he had to see me at two. Even sent a man to take over the shop while I'm gone."

Her gaze turned to Harry, who reflected that maybe it wasn't such a good thing that she'd gained a talent for cross-interrogation. "And you, Harry? What are you here for?"

"Same thing." He held up the little note that had been on his desk that morning. "He told me to drop everything and come see him at two."

She wordlessly took the letter and read it, stepping aside and casting a few spells to test its authenticity. Ron shifted from foot to foot nervously, then said "Rose really improved on a broom over the summer. I'll bet she'll make Gryffindor Beater when she gets back to Hogwarts next week."

"Good for her. How's Hugo doing? Is he ready for his first year?"

"'Ready'? He's been talking about it all summer. Bit annoying, really." He grumbled in a tone that reminded Harry of something similar that had once been said about Ginny. The thought of her brought back his good mood until Ron asked "How are your kids doing?"

"Well." Harry answered tersely, even though his tone implied something entirely different. He looked into his best friend's eyes for a moment then sighed "Something's up the with the boys. Albus and James have been so… different, this summer, with no explanation and it's thrown us all for a loop. They won't talk to me, or even Ginny. Lily won't say anything about it either, though it's obvious she knows something."

"Blimey that sucks. But that's teenagers for you, idn't it?"

Kingsley walked out out his office and looked at the Golden Trio, nodding in satisfaction. "Good, you're all here. Come with me."

Trusting the man they had known since the Second War and knowing there was no way someone had managed to Imperius the Minister with the defenses they themselves had helped set, they did. Harry wondered at the man's secrecy on the matter and why he would need all three of them. They stepped into the Minister's private elevator and as it descended, they shared a look. Ron and Hermione were plainly waiting for Harry to ask the Minister what he was up to, but Harry found he wasn't actually in any hurry to hear what Shacklebolt had to say.

When the Minister waved his wand and made another button appear on the panel, Hermione gasped "Minister, surely you didn't-"

"I did," he cut her off with a flat glare. "four years ago, and with good reason."

"What reason could possibly be good enough?" Her anger was making her hair bristle.

"Hermione, darling? What did he do?"

She looked at her husband from the corner of her eye, and visibly reigned in her outrage down to incredulity as she accused "He re-instituted the _Department of Mysteries._ "

* * *

Kings Cross station looked the same as it always did. Packed with people crossing platforms and checking arrival times, pastry stands tempting weary travelers for something warm, and on September the first, the unusual amount of people walking about with owl cages attached to their luggage. It looked like it always had, Mrs. Weasley thought with surprise.

"Com'on, Mum! We're almost there!"

Hermione smiled down at her youngest son and felt her lips slowly curve upwards, as though they'd forgotten how smiling was supposed to work. "We've plenty of time, darling."

"But Moooom!"

His sister piped up. "Hugo, why give mum the cart so you don't run anyone over, and I'll go ahead with you through the barrier, is that fair?"

"Okay Rose," He grinned and abandoned his stuff in the middle of the walk, taunting "Last one there's a dung beetle!"

" _Give_ the cart to mum! I said-" She grunted as she ran into a muggle as she chased after her little brother, apologizing quickly to the man even as she dashed forward "I told you to _give it_ to her! And why are we running?"

Hermione sighed as she watched her children vanish into the crowd. She wasn't worried about the two of them getting lost, they'd been making the trip for years now. As she ran her fingers through her hair and found some grey strands, though, she admitted the other reason she wasn't chasing them properly was because she was getting old.

Much too old for the news Kinsley had dropped on them, Hermione thought as she looked at the two carts of stuff she now had to get through the barrier somehow. Rose's offer to her brother had been sweet, but it seemed she had forgotten their father wasn't with them on this trip.

Her lips pressed together in a thin line. When they heard what the Minister had to say, her husband had decided to come out of retirement and retrain to join Harry with the other Aurors. Oh she supported the decision and understood their panicked urgency, but really, couldn't the Minister have waited just one more week so that Ron could be there to send Hugo off to his first year with a smile?

She was considering whether she should risk using a bit of magic to help herself with the carts when someone asked, in a smooth voice, "You seem to be in a spot of trouble, Granger."

Hermione tensed. There was only one person who still called her that after she'd married Ron. Only one person who had _ever_ called her that, really. "Draco," she tried to keep her voice courteous as she looked at the tall, balding man, "Good evening. Good evening, Astoria."

Astoria Malfoy smiled openly at her, holding onto Draco's elbow. "Hello, Hermione. How are you? Where's Ronald?"

"He couldn't make it. Something came up at the office." Hermione's office, not his, but that wasn't for them to know.

"An emergency in _Wheasley's Wizard Wheezes_? Now that is something to worry over. One must wonder how many… accidents occur in such a place." Draco stared her down for a little while, his tone and eyes saying that he didn't believe her excuse, then snapped "Scorpius. Help her with that other cart."

His son seemed to materialize out of the crowd to help as his father asked, and Hermione felt as though she'd been sent back twenty-five years as she looked at him. He was so young, and looked so similar to Draco when they'd gone to Hogwarts. It seemed he'd even had the same rapid growth spurt as his father, since the lad was now taller than his mother and easily her own height.

"Is this Rose' trunk, ma'am?" He asked politely after a few moments, and Hermione realized she'd been staring at the boy.

She pushed her cart toward the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, "That's Hugo's, her little brother's. He's starting this year."

"Another Weasley?" His tone and inflection once again echoing his father, who looked amused by his son's comment as well. "Aren't there enough Legacies at Hogwarts already?"

"Enough what?" Hermione asked, surprised there was still a wizarding word she didn't know after thirty years. Goodness did that number make her feel old.

"You know, Legacy Children. All the many spawn of you and the original Potter and most of the graduates from Dumbledore's Army. Whole school calls them that, they're always sticking together." Scorpius lined himself up with the wall between platforms 9 and 10. "Right, I'll go first Miss Weasley."

Astoria looked at the other woman quietly for a few moments after her son left, then asked softly "You didn't know?"

"No. No, I-" Hermione just shook her head. She knew, obviously, she and her friends were famous in many circles and that it affected their children. People in the office were always asking if her Rose was showing any interest in Magical Law. But to have that much external pressure at such an early age… she thought back to how stressful it had been for her and Ron to be _friends_ with 'The Boy Who Lived', and how the reporters like Rita Skeeter had haunted their days. Reporters still flocked around the Weasleys and Potters got together with eachother or people from the old days, but they had become like background noise to their lives. She no longer really paid attention.

Her children though… well, they were children. She didn't know why she had assumed Hogwarts would release them from the spotlight they suffered every summer and holiday, but assume she had, and wrongly so.

However her mistake wasn't as unsettling to her as the fact that her children hadn't approached her about it even once, and Hermione was certain they hadn't spoken to their Aunts or Uncles. It would break her pride and heart as a mother if they had considered anyone else, family or not, more trustworthy than her.

"Trouble in paradise, Granger?"

Hermione looked up at Draco's pale face and wondered how much of her shock and inner turmoil had shown on her face to induce such a gentle tone from her old rival. Smiling for real to him and his wife, she assured them "Nothing I can't handle, Malfoys."

* * *

Fred Weasley II helped his younger sister set her trunk in the compartment beside his, then rolled his eyes in amusement when she started straightening his robes as they draped from the hanger. "Roxanne, enough. You and mum already ironed it three times in the car, it you make it any stiffer I'll be walking around in a tent."

She huffed and though she stopped he asked, though she reached up to straighten the two badges already proudly displayed on the new robes. "Fine, Freddo. But don't expect me to stop being excited for you. I'm just glad that creep Creevy got Dragonpox over the summer; I always knew you'd make a better Prefect." Roxanne had never been interested in the position for herself, but she had been livid when the Professors hadn't picked her big brother two years ago. Rumor was the faculty break room was still pink and smelly from her retaliation.

"Temporary Prefect, Rox. The letter said I'm only filling in for him temporarily until he's well enough to come back to Hogwarts. Besides," Fred thought of his seventh year Gryffindor classmate, "It's not very nice to be happy someone else is sick. He's lost his chance at being Head Boy because of this."

"I'm not about to lie about it," Roxanne huffed, giving the small Prefect badge a final polish. "You stick to your political correctness that makes teachers love you, and I'll stick to being brash and open with what I do."

He smiled at her in amusement. Accurate as always, he could see that as being exactly how the first few weeks of this year at Hogwarts would go for the two of them. "You know, while I'm Prefect I won't be able to secretly help you and Lorcan make new spells for your 'adventures' with James." He used finger quotes for the generous adjective about their rulebreaking shenanigans.

"Damn," She murmured as she looked at the badge in a new light and Rox asked, with a trace of seriousness in the joke, "Think it's too late to return this?"

He grinned at her. "Just a bit. And don't think I won't do my job just because you're my favorite sibling."

"I'm you're only sibling." She teased back, although all the cousins in their large family were certainly close enough to be brothers and sisters. Goodness knew all the red hair was a dead giveaway that they were related.

"Eh, po-tA-to po-tah-to," Fred elbowed her playfully. "Now go find your partners in crime, I have to sit through a meeting about how to properly walk through Hogwarts when I'm on patrol."

She raised a red eyebrow at him dubiously. "The train doesn't leave for another thirty minutes. Aren't you a bit early?"

"Nope," He declared with a wink as he left to go find his peers. "Actually I'm two years late."

As soon as he'd left she'd pulled out a bag of experimental items her dad had been testing in his joke shop and stuffed it into her brother's trunk. She knew the Prefects always checked her bags trunk times for such banned goods, but with the Prefect mark on Fred's baggage his would remain untouched. She was certain she'd have another chance to get it back without her brother noticing when the arrived.

Roxanne grinned at her success and left to find her 'partners in crime', as Fred had so aptly put their relationship, and knew precisely why the Sorting Hat once debated placing her in Slytherin.

* * *

Lily Luna Potter could not wait to be back inside the hallways of Hogwarts. As the twelve year old girl pushed through the crowds outside the train she held her new rabbit Charles to her chest protectively. The little guy had been her best friend over the summer since Albus and James had started not-fighting and Lilly, as always, was caught in the middle.

Albus had been sore at James for something that only he seemed to know about, but whatever it was, it had Albus acting like a completely different person. Her brother had refused to go anywhere alone with James and James, pining for attention, had started dragging Lily around instead until Albus snapped and started yelling at him.

Albus Severus Potter never raised his voice, but Lily had heard both their voices echoing across the backyard from her room. The only words she could actually make out was James swearing to call Albus by his middle name, since "He cares about Slytherins so bloody much!". When mum got home and scolded the two of them about yet another argument, the both of them had shut their mouths and refused to say a word to defend themselves.

Lily hadn't thought much of the dispute as first, sure she could help them come to terms within a week, but now she was boarding the Hogwarts Express and she'd barely managed to get them to say ten words to eachother in the past month. James was still calling their brother 'Severus' and the longest thing Albus has said was "pass the salt" over dinner one night. They spent time with her separately and though they would complain to her about the other, both refused to say what had started it.

She prided herself on being an excellent mediator for the two of them, but found her skill lacking when neither of them would talk. And the icier they were getting the harder it would be for them to move past it. Lily even started to suspect each was trying to win her over to their side as the 'better' brother, which was confirmed when they started randomly buying her stuff over the summer.

The two of them had managed an amicable front when Mum and Dad were around, but Lily was sure their parents knew something was up. She buried her cheek into Charles's soft fur as she finally reached the Hogwarts Express and decided that if they wanted to fight like a couple of brats the whole year, this time she would let them. She would, Lily promised herself firmly, and she would enjoy herself with people who actually wanted her around.

As though summoned by her need for him in that moment, the cousin she most wanted to see burst from the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾, looking around as though seeing it for the first time even though he'd been there several times before. Hugo caught her eye and grinned at Lily while his sister came after him, her face red.

"Hugo!" Rose cried, "What was that about? You can't just run off like that!"

"You're a dung beetle." Hugo stuck his tongue out at her with his arms crossed. "Of course I ran from you."

"Why you little Brat, I hope you fall of the boats when we get there-"

Lily heard them arguing first thing when walked up to the two of them, and the twelve-year-old finally felt herself break under the pressure she'd been facing for two months. Tears started rolling down her face as she begged between sobs "Don't- sniff- don't you two- hic- start too!" and then the rest of her words were lost in a wail and a sea of snot as Lily buried her face back into her bunny.

The Weasley children stared at her in utter shock for a moment, their squabble forgotten, then pulled her into a comforting hug when people started noticing, pulling her away from the crowd gathered around the train.

Lily didn't question or protest, babbling her distress even though her cousins barely understood any of it "They've been terrible... actually shouting, I couldn't… and then bribing… passing salt… calling Albus _Severus_!" She finished with a shout, still buried in her poor rabbit, who seemed used to being treated as a face rag.

Hugo grabbed best friend's hand after the three of them were safely secluded and looked up at his sister imploringly, hoping she would know what to do.

Rose crouched in front of her younger cousin, trying to understand what she'd managed to hear. "We're not fighting anymore, Lily, promise."

"Yeah Lils, promise we're not." Hugo chimed in and gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

With a loud sniff the youngest Potter slowly lifted her eyes from her pet and looked at them, her gaze almost daring them to break their promise. After a few more sobs she pulled her head up completely and started to flush with embarrassment too. "Sorry about that," she finally whispered softly. "I know that wasn't really a fight."

Both of them sighed in relief and helped Lily put herself back together, cleaning her clothes and rabbit while they gently asked her about what happened. She told them exactly everything she knew, which wasn't much, though when she mentioned James's Slytherin comment Rose immediately stopped fussing with Lily's hair.

"Is that exactly what James said? Are you sure?" After Lily confirmed it Rose's face paled and flushed at the same time as she swore "Oh Merlin I told Albus to let that go."

"What!" Lily screeched. "He told you about it?"

"No, no Albus didn't tell me anything about the fight." Rose was quick to assure her. "It's just something happened in one of our classes last year, and I think that's what started it."

Hugo looked at his sister and asked "What happened?"

She hesitated a moment, then sighed. "James did something really bad to a Slytherin classmate end of last school year. Really crossing a line bad, and no," Rose firmly met her brother's eye, "I will not say who or what it was, just that it was worse than embarrassing and James could have been expelled if he'd been reported." She'd been sick with worry for her cousin until the school year mercifully ended.

Hugo Weasley pursed his lips. As the youngest of the clan he was used to his family thinking he wasn't ready for things. Last to know, last to ride a broom, last to help and apparently- he glared at his sister- last to be trusted too. But he wisely chose not to get any more upset about it in front of Lily.

Instead he watched as Rose pulled their cousin in for a Weasley hug, holding only Lily for a long moment. Lily was a loyal Hufflepuff through and through, and she didn't deserve to be pulled apart by two of the people she loved most. "We're here to help Lily, whatever you need."

The younger ginger pulled back with a sigh, looking down at Charles's twitching nose as she confessed "They've been at it the whole summer and- and I dunno what to do anymore!"

Hugo draped an arm around her. "Then do nothing, Lils. It's not your job to fix their problem."

"But…" despite having promised to do just that Lily didn't think she could stand sitting by and just watching. Their conversation was silenced as the train blew a ten minute warning and someone frantically dashed around the corner, knocking into Rose and ricocheting off her onto the ground.

The three red-heads stared incredulously at the girl who rubbed her forehead wearily, looking up at her three spectators with an apologetic smile. She was about the same size as Lily and was dressed in new Hogwarts robes. She had green eyes and her deep turquoise-green hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. There wasn't a house emblem on her robes yet so Rose realized this must be a first year as she helped the girl get to her feet.

"Sorry about that," The girl smiled and took the help gratefully, bouncing up in a smooth motion that made Rose think this girl fell down a lot. "Came right round the corner, couldn't see you. Hey, you haven't-" she faltered a little bit as she started to stare at Lily, and Rose felt her protective instincts rise. Despite their best efforts it was obvious at a glance that Lily had been crying recently, and if this girl made it happen again Rose was prepared to lose her temper over it.

"That rabbit is so cute! Can I pet him? Is he Magical? What's his name?"

Lily tentatively her arms out out so the girl could stroke his fur, and proudly announced the new pet she'd gotten over the summer as "Charles Fluffington."

"That is so _perfect_!" the girl grinned with a squeal, seemingly lost in her own world with the rabbit before she cleared her throat and said "Back to seriousness. Sorry I ran into you three- and you literally, my bad- but there's only ten minutes till the train leaves. You haven't happened to see a pet running about and looking for its owner, have you? The owner and I are trying to find his pet."

It took a moment for Rose to work around her circular statement, but when she figured it out she shook her head pointed to the rabbit. "Only pet we've seen around in Lily's. My name's Rose, by the way."

Lily held her bunny back to her chest as she wondered what it'd be like to lose him. "What kind of pet did you lose?" She asked helpfully, instant friends with anyone Charles approved of.

"I didn't lose him, Jon did. But he's got big, adorable brown eyes and a black nose and-" A piercing scream came from the last crowd of students boarding the train and the girl's head snapped over as more shouts joined the first. "Ooh that might be him!"

Hugo paled and was very glad this pet hadn't been around to eat Charles.

The girl started to run off then stopped and waved back at them. "My name's Zoey, Rose, and I'm starting Hogwarts this year. And by the way, I just love ya'lls hair!"


	8. Ch 8 Train Travel

**Ch. 8 Train Travel**

* * *

After Scorpius Malfoy had helped Mrs. Weasley get her son's cart onto the train and said goodbye to his parents, he proceeded to search the compartments for his friends. He found Nott soon enough, and upon telling of his encounter with the marital Weasley Nott's mouth fell open.

"The Hermione Granger? Your dad talked to _the_ Hermione Granger?"

Malfoy felt himself bristle with a mixture of pride and annoyance. "Of course he did, you know both our fathers went to Hogwarts with her. And it's Hermione Weasley now."

Still Nott refused to let it go, "Hermione Weasley is a boring old lawyer. Hermione _Granger_ was the badass witch that fought Death Eaters."

A passing Hufflepuff student gasped and scuttled away when he heard the title come from Nott's mouth, whispering to a group of friends that proceeded to look at the two Slytherins in shock and fear.

Scorpius felt his mouth tighten as he glared. "Well? Death Eaters. What are you gonna do about it." What the Hufflepuffs 'did' turned out to be both disheartening and disappointing, as the group all but ran from their presence.

"Bloody brats," Nott mumbled under his breath, his good mood thoroughly destroyed.

Malfoy was just as livid as he pulled Nott in the opposite directions those cowards had scampered in. "Com'on, may as well get into our robes now." After changing into their official school attire they resumed their search for Zambini, Melissa, and Priscilla, talking about mundane things like what would change in their fourth year classes.

The person they ran into first wasn't Slytherin at all, and Scorpius rolled his eyes at Nott with a smirk when Rose Weasley marched over to him with one of her cousins. "Hey Malfoy!" She'd seen the smirk, he thought, because she was already upset, "How much dummer did you get over the break? I studied every day."

"You did?" Her cousin looked at her in horror, to Rose's obvious annoyance.

"Of course she did," Scorpius drawled with a triumphant smirk, "How else can she hope to keep up with me?"

Nott snickered when both Weasleys grew red. Rose's cousin stepped forward to poke him aggressively, "Are you laughing at my cousin?" and he only grinned more.

"Why Dominique-" Scorpius glanced at Nott in surprise that his friend knew her name past 'Weasley' and 'Legacy'- "Would you rather I laugh at you?"

"Yes." She scowled, and he returned the expression until Rose butted in.

"Malfoy, I need to speak to you privately. Come with me." and ignoring everyone's surprise she turned on her heel and marched off. Scorpius raised an eyebrow. Did she expect him to follow her like a lapdog? He was Scorpius Malfoy, surely she wasn't that thick.

After a few moments of realizing she was alone Rose stomped back, red faced, and Scorpius rolled his shoulders lightly at her unspoken confusion. "I didn't hear a 'please' in that, Weasley. Didn't your mum teach you manners?" After he said it he wondered what Rose would think of the fact he had helped that exact mother a mere hour ago, and had been perfectly gentlemanly about it.

"Please, Malfoy." Rose grunted sarcastically through clenched teeth, and his eyebrows drew together as he pretended to think about it.

"Hm, no thanks Weasley. I think I'd rather not be alone with such a prickly personality." Then Scorpius did stop in actual thought and smiled in a soft, predatory way. "So prickly, Weasley, that maybe I should start calling you Thorny instead of Rosie."

Her scrunched face looked at him, glowing red in the dim lights, then she huffed and spun so fast her thick hair lifted and fell in a thick wave across her shoulders. She rested a hand on her hip as she glared at them over her shoulder. "Forget it, Malfoy. Your loss. Dom, lets go."

Nott faked a falsetto voice as he mocked her. "Yes Draco, lets depart." And he twisted in the exact same manner Rose had, sticking his butt out to the side and snapping his fingers to punctuate his demand as he smirked at the girls.

Nobody seemed sure of how to respond to that, so the Weasley girls left without saying another word.

Scorpius and Nott grinned at their success in pulling Legacies down a few pegs before the year even started, and felt much better as they resumed their search for their friends.

They found their peers sitting together- alone, of course- and set the last of their bags in the overhead compartments as they sat with them. While Priscilla gossiped about who would be the new Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Scorpius casually slipped his hand into the pocket of his robe and was surprised to find something in it. Carefully pulling out an old piece of parchment, he read looping cursive script in surprise.

 _Sorry it's so late getting back to you, but life got kinda busy. See ya around, Malfoy_  
 _~Malam_

He smirked as he read it, realizing this must be the exact robe he'd leant her last spring. This letter was obviously from before the summer, and she certainly hadn't lived up to her promise. Scorpius frowned, crumpling the note back into his pocket. She was the one missing out on his company. The only thing he was upset over was an idiotic girl breaking her word to a Malfoy, which wasn't done.

Melissa Goyle was being oddly silent, he realized suddenly as he looked at the girl. She was staring out the train and watching the rolling landscape instead of talking. Scorpius felt his eyes narrow. "Something on your mind, Melissa?"

She flinched as though struck and looked away from the window as everyone's attention focused on her. Fingering her skirt in apprehension, Melissa took a deep breath and confessed "I have something terrible to tell you guys…"

* * *

"I swear I can't stand the prick, Dominique." Rose complained, ignoring her cousin's mutterings in fluent French about how she should have gone to Beauxbatons. "Scorpius Malfoy is the most insufferable, arrogant man to ever set foot in Hogwarts, and that's _including_ young Voldemort."

"Relax, _cherie_. Just ignore him." She assured with her trace of French accent.

"Ignore him?" Rose slid open the door to the compartment the two of them had been in before Rose had decided to go warn Scorpius about James's apparent grudge, "How can you ignore a bloody, arrogant prick who struts around like he owns the galaxy, Dom? He honestly thinks he's his own gift to the world, and- oh hello." She grew red and cut herself off as she saw there was someone in the room who wasn't family.

Lily and Hugo looked amused while Dominique looked at the extra occupant's turquoise hair with a mixture of shock and revulsion. "Nice… vibrancy." She finally commented as she sat down next to Lily- which was far as possible from Zoey as she could get.

Zoey looked up from the rabbit paws she'd been playing with for the past few minutes and beamed at the two new redheads. "Thanks! My name's Zoey, nice to meet- wait, you're Rose, right? Didn't I run into you earlier?"

"Er… yes, I think we did." Rose blinked as her embarrassment wore into plain old surprise, turning her gaze on her younger clanmates and silently asking _What is this doing here?_

Lily was too interested with playing with Charles to notice, so Hugo answered "She needed a place to sit. Been running around after that missing pet since we saw her."

"Missing pet?" Dominique wrinkled her nose. "Tell me it's not a rat."

"It's not a rat." Her voice was so smooth and flat nobody could tell if she was serious or saying it to humor Dom.

After a moment of tense silence, Rose spoke up again. "So where are you from, Zoey?"

"Oh all around." Zoey twirled the end of her colorful hair, which reached her shoulders from its high ponytail. "My aunt and uncle work at a travel agency, so we went everywhere while I was growing up. Muggles, by the way, on my dad's side. I'm half-witch."

Dom rolled her eyes and reached for her makeup kit that was tucked into her trunk in the overhead compartment. "It's half-blood, not half-witch."

"Half-blood doesn't really seem to work, though. I've got a full body of blood, but I don't have a filled heritage of magic."

Rose smiled at the distinction. "Half-witch. I like it." By that logic muggle-borns would be new-witches or new-wizards, which was much better than mudblood. But then purebloods would be full-wizards. Ugh. She could just see Malfoy having a hayday with that.

Dominique squealed and dropped her make-up, daintily sucking a manicured nail in her mouth as she complained "Something cut me." She looked over to see what it was but froze when all five of them heard a growling hiss from their luggage.

While the four red-heads were still with shock- or in Dom's case, terror- Zoey perked up. "Raz?" Pushing them aside so her short figure could stand on the seats, she did a chin-up to reach the baggage. "Rasputin, there you are! Wait, what're you- oh no you don't, get back here you little-"

The gathering of assorted Weasleys dodged as the small girl started to kick wildly while chasing the errant pet that scuttled through their trunks. Finally there was a triumphant cry shortly before Zoey tumbled hard to the ground, firmly holding the most bizarre four-legged creature Rose had ever seen.

It was about two thirds the size of a quaffle, and Zoey was telling the truth when she'd described it as having big brown eyes and a black nose, but those were just about the only attractive things about it. Instead of fur the thing's back was covered in striped purple-brown quills the sizes of toothpicks, a few of which were red with blood from Dom's finger, and four curved black claws that were half an inch long on each foot. It was growling at it's owner with a vicious set of white fangs and for a horrible moment Rose feared that it would start mauling the girl's face.

Then Zoey snapped her teeth together with an audible click in front of its long snout and started snarling right back, cowing the creature with her equally white albeit much rounder chompers. The thing's claws retracted a little as it quieted and the quills lowered until they pressed flat against its body, which was shaped more like a tube than it's original roundness had implied. Zoey continued her rolling growl until its pointed ears twisted back as the creature tentatively reached forward to lick under her jawline, and only then did the girl start to smile once more.

"What," Dominique accused, pressed against the wall with her feet pulled up off the floor, "Is that?"

"This is Rasputin," Zoey started to stroke down him down his spikes to keep him calm. "He's a murtlap. _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ calls them 'rats with sea-anemone spikes', but they're more like smart porcupines in my opinion. Very smart; I don't think a porcupine could get out of a cage with three locks on it." She glared at the murtlap in her arms as she accused in a baby voice "And you're not gonna tell me how you do it are you, you Razmanian devil?"

"That thing poisoned me!"

"Murtlaps don't have poison, Dom." Rose piped up, understanding the creature as soon as she heard its name, before turning to Zoey with an accusing glare. "But they are magical, and certainly aren't allowed as pets in Hogwarts. First-years don't even take Care of Magical Creatures."

"Oh I told you, he's not mine." The Weasleys all watched in horror as Zoey sat cross-legged on the floor while she petted it adoringly in the same way she had Charles the rabbit not ten minutes ago. "Jonovan got him over the summer."

Dominiques face grew blank. "Jonovan? As in Jonovan Orion?"

"Who?" Hugo whispered to Lily, who whispered back "New professor assistant at Hogwarts."

"Yeah." Zoey answered both their questions. "Jonovan walked in the store planning to get a kneazle and came out with this guy. Said he looks cooler- when he's not running away and giving us heart attacks."

Dominique looked between the turquoise-haired girl and the creature in her hands that had attacked her, then threw up her own manicured hands and declared "So not my type." as she left the compartment.

Zoey watched her leave, then looked to the remaining Weasleys in absolute confusion. "Did I say something wrong?"

* * *

When Roxanne Weasley finally found Lorcan and his twin, they immediately pulled her into a bone-crushing hug that could easily be used to kill if they weren't so very fond of their victim. Hugging them back and used to holding her breath through the process, Rox was nonetheless glad to take a deep lungful of air as she was released.

While her body rediscovered oxygen Lorcan leaned towards her and whispered "Did you do it?"

Their bag of prank supplies was the only thing he could be thinking of. "Of course." Roxanne scoffed, insulted by his doubt.

His grin was huge as he sat back next to his twin and confided "This is going to be the best year ever." Lysander just grunted and turned another page in his book.

Roxanne took a seat across from them, musing for the millionth time how similar the Scamander twins looked. They weren't identical, but they were the same height and the same broad build, both had dark hair and the same olive-tone complexion. Lorcan's hair was more brown than his twin's black and their faces were a little different, but that was hard to see when they weren't right next to each other. Honestly the easiest way to differentiate the two was to look for their house colors. Red and blue were much easier to tell apart than brown and black.

Lorcan Scamander, brash and headstrong, had been placed in Gryffindor six years ago with her and James. He and Rox sat together in every class so she could help him keep up, and pass some notes on whatever they were currently scheming. Lorcan was always ready for action and insisted on doing the most daredevil stunts, like Accio-ing a broom from midjump off the Astrology tower.

Honestly it didn't make sense that they'd gotten in trouble for that, nobody'd been hurt. Except that that random girl who fainted and bumped her nose, but that wasn't their fault.

Lysander Scamander, who always had a book to study, was in Ravenclaw. The day that boy went somewhere without his bookbag was the day Voldemort rose from the grave and brought flowers with him. He was top of the class in their grade, and had even beaten some of the school records set by Hermione Granger twenty years ago. More often than not, he had to help his twin and Rox with their essays and tests when their in-class 'planning' notes were longer than their real ones. He was elected Prefect last year.

He was also the best Keeper on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team in the past ten years and, according to rumor, was going to become Team Captain next year. Lysander neither confirmed nor denied this, but Lorcan had told Rox that his twin was probably just afraid he'd lose his last chance at the position if he bragged too soon.

The three of them enjoyed the companionable silence for a while until the door to the compartment opened and James crashed in, sitting next to Roxanne with a particularly disgruntled look on his face.

His ginger hair was almost as messy as his little brother's, and his glasses- which really didn't suit him at all, Rox had always thought- were dingy and tilting off his nose. He was obviously in a bad mood and obviously wanted one of them to bring it up.

Lorcan, as ever, was the one to comply with his best friend's wishes. "What happened to you, mate? Grow your own whomping willow?"

Lysander sniggerred into his book, revealing his annoying capability to both read and hear an entire conversation if he felt like it.

James was not as amused as he glared at the bookworm. "If you must know, Albus and I have been fighting."

Roxanne shook her head in disbelief. "Our Albus? Our little green-eyed, soft-spoken mascot has been 'fighting'? Are you sure you're not Confounded right now, James?"

"Of course I am! It's all because of that bloody thief I almost caught last year."

Lorcan seemed to be the only one unsurprised by the statement, leaning back with an "Ah" that just shouted foreknowledge.

"'Aah' what? What thief are you talking about?" Roxanne looked between them in annoyance. She hated being left out.

Lorcan started to explain. "Last year when James finished herbology final early-"

Lysander snorted. More like skipped out and left his partners to finish his work.

"-he found someone in the greenhouses, stealing potion ingredients."

"I Stupifyed him and was running to get Professor Longbottom when none other than Malfoy jumps me," James picked up the tale with a scowl. "While I dueled with him his buddy recovered and shot me in the back. Lorcan found me unconscious before the rest of class got out, healed my bruise from the fall. But Malfoy and his partner were long gone."

"Why didn't you report this?" Lysander frowned, his Prefect badge glinting on his chest as he looked up from his book.

"Right, report that I got ganged up on and knocked out? Oh yeah, that'd go over real well with the Daily Prophet."

"We checked the greenhouse, but nothing was missing." Lorcan shot James a look from the corner of his eye as he gave their real reason. "We had no proof Malfoy was there or even that he'd attempted a robbery, and it was the last week of school anyways. We started patrolling the greenhouses ourselves just in case, but never saw them again."

"What does this have to do with your fight with Albus?" Roxanne asked, finally remembering how they reached the subject.

"The little- mascot," He looked like he'd sincerely wanted to say something different but didn't dare under the stink-eye the three of them were giving him. "Doesn't believe me when I say the slimy sneak of a Slytherin was involved."

"Hrm." Lysander looked at him a moment longer, then leaned back and once more put his nose away in a book. "Well next time, report it." and said nothing more about it for the rest of their ride.

* * *

As they pulled into Hogsmead station, the compartment of Slytherin's started to recover from their shock at Melissa's declaration. The girl was curled into a ball on her chair and muttering "Don't hate me." Over and over again.

Zambini was the first to recover, reaching out to pull the crying girl into his arms. "Of course we don't hate you." And glared over the top of her head in case anyone disagreed.

Priscilla reached forward and rubbed her arm comfortingly, telling her younger friend "I am so, so sorry this happened to you."

Scorpius looked at Nott and saw his jaw set in determination, the dark-haired boy turning to Malfoy to find the same look. They nodded at eachother once before Scorpius declared "We're going to fix this."

It spoke to his record of success that the first question any of them asked was "How?" and only a few seconds later that Melissa groaned "It's not possible. People have tried for- for ages."

Nott shrugged. "Who cares if it's never been done. We'll just be the first."

"If anybody in the wizarding world has done it before, and kept it secret, it's someone from our families." Scorpius declared, reminding them "We're _purebloods_ , longest lines of magical ties that exist. We come from five of the strongest wizard families in the world, who also tend to keep their own business to themselves. One of our ancestors had to know something they didn't share."

His speech brought a bit of hope back into their eyes, and he rallied them into action. "Now, first thing we'll do when we get back to Hogwarts is start making inquiries- most useful stuff will be back at our homes, and we'll scour there during the holidays, but we need to know what we're looking for first."

There was a commotion outside in the hallway as students started unloading from the train, talking and laughing and altogether unaware of how drastically inappropriate their jovial attitude was for the somber Slytherins. Zambini handed Melissa over to Priscilla with a dark look, stomping over to open the door to their compartment and shouting "SHUT UP!" at the streaming crowd.

He proceeded to glare a few seconds after their noise lowered to frightened whispers, then slammed the door shut and sat back down, looking decidedly better after getting to yell out part of his frustration.

Nott pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the red-faced girl. "For now, pucker up and hold your head high. You're a Goyle, Melissa, and nobody can take that away from you."

She pushed her curly black hair back and daintily started dabbing her face clean, the magical cloth perking her appearance as she did so. Melissa handed it back to him with a smile as she stood with perfect posture, declaring with a grateful smile "I _am_ a Goyle, and I'm pureblooded too."

* * *

Zoey Malam never found her short height to be a problem, but tall people just weren't fair. As she followed the crowds off the Hogwarts Express, she could barely see two feet in front of her through the sea of shoulder's she found herself in. Distantly she heard somebody shout over the roaring din that was the crowd, and sighed in relief when the echoing conversations quieted.

Rose Weasley kept a firm grip on her brother as she escorted him off the train, dragging the taller boy toward where the first-years were gathering at which point Hugo started protesting to being shown around. "I know where I'm going now, Rosie, stop pulling… seriously, people are staring- this is embarrassing, let go of me-"

The bushy haired girl did no such thing as she dragged her brother to stand in front of the short caretaker with the other first-years, and Zoey silently arrived in their shadow as all attention focused on them.

"Lookit that hair-"

"Do ya rekon?"

"Has to be-"

"It's another _Weasley_."

Hugo's face turned red as his hair and he started grasping Rose's hand as fiercely as she was holding his, turning away from the many peers that were staring at him. Rose gave him a comforting squeeze and waited until the last possible minute to go or else miss the carriages. As willing as she would be to stay with him, she wasn't allowed to ride with the new students; something the caretaker-elf Snottgrout was more than willing to remind her of.

Hugo looked so miserable as he watched her walk away that Zoey stepped up and patted him on the shoulder, which was even with her nose. Rasputin even nosed him in sympathy as she said "We'll see her in less than an hour, I promise."

He gave her a crooked smile as thanks and pulled himself together, sticking by her as the caretaker started grouping them into fours. Zoey and Hugo were paired with a short girl with tight blond curls named Trisha Scarlett and a resigned looking black boy named Mitchell Sanders for their ride across the lake.

All three of them looked sick with nerves, and as they settled into one of the rickety old rowboats Zoey sincerely hoped none of them were bad about seasickness. Mitchell held onto the edge of the boat nervously as it glided smoothly across the water, pressing down into his seat and mumbling some kind of prayer. Trisha kept twisting her hair around her fingers over and over again, making the naturalness of her curls doubtful. Hugo surprised them all by grinning like this was the best thing ever, apparently over his fear as soon as they were out of a crowd. He started babbling in excitement, and Zoey absently listened as she let her fingers trail through the water.

"This lake is really cool, Zoey. There's a whole nother world of magic underwater; there are merpeople down there with a whole city, I swear it's true. They even have their own magical creatures! Uncle Harry had to fight off a bunch of grindylows while saving my dad from being the merpeople's prisoner for the Triwizard- er, actually, nevermind that part. Tell you more about it later. But grindylows are like these magical demon-squids with hands. The merpeople use them as guard dogs, and there's an actual magical squid in here too. Giant thing according to Mum. Not that she ever saw-"

Trisha, who hadn't really been paying attention to him at all, pointed ahead and asked "What's going on up there?"

Murmuring had started in the boats ahead of them, and the Caretaker's voice started to have what seemed like a one-sided conversation. The magical progression of the entire fleet slowed down to a crawl as Zoey felt something rubbery pass by her fingers in the water.

"Seaweed." She murmured, then she pulled a strand up and her eyes widened when she saw it tied in a knotted pattern. "A net of seaweed." Zoey kept her hand out of the water.

The Mitchell fellow spoke up as something breached the water by Snottgrout's boat. "What was that you said, mate, about water people taking your dad hostage?"

As though summoned, dozens of merpeople slowly lifted their heads above water, staring at the many boats. They had bulging yellow eyes that reflected the moonlight and stringy green hair the color of mossweed, a few of them flicking silver tails along the lake surface in agitation. Snottgrout was making screeching noises at the one in front of her, and did not look at all pleased about being delayed like this.

Hugo was speechless once more, looking around nervously as merpeople started to draw closer to the boats. Trisha swooned in a dead faint at their approach and Mitchell, obviously worried the girl would tip over the edge, unapologetically stored her by their feet.

Rasputin started hissing from her lap and Zoey turned to find a merman right next to their boat, his torso lifted out of the water as his yellow eyes stared at her. Her nails dug into her right palm while she started fingering her charm bracelet, taking meditative breaths and hoping she didn't reek of fear. Could merpeople smell fear? She thought it unlikely, considering that scent wouldn't be beneficial underwater, but then sharks could smell blood from miles away-

He lifted a webbed hand out of the water and Hugo whimpered as it started to reach toward them. Zoey clenched her eyes shut and was about to yank the silver charm off when her head registered a very gentle tug.

Everyone watched in terror as the merman continued running his wet fingers through her turquoise hair, apparently fascinated with it. While her hair got progressively damp from his caress Zoey nervously watched two more merpeople swim up to join him, and then she had six sets of webbed fingers running over her head. Eventually the new students realized that these people wanted absolutely nothing else than to satisfy this curiosity.

Hugo started laughing in relief, to which Malam shot him a dark look and threatened to point out his scarlet shock of hair to successfully make him sober up some, but he kept giggling randomly. Zoey sighed and subjected to being 'petted', for lack of a better word, until the boats started moving again. Her hair tie fell out as they continued their slow ride toward the Hogwarts castle.

The merpeople got distracted by increased screeching at the front boat, and one of them left to apparently help their leader when Snottgrout started making threatening gestures. Zoey just hoped it wouldn't take much longer.

When another shape loomed underwater on Hugo's side of the boat, they all assumed it was the merwoman coming back and were shocked to see the furred head of a horse come up instead. It's dark black eyes had a slightly blue haze surrounding them as they swept over the occupants on the small rowboat. Finally resting its gaze on Hugo, the horse whinnied and angled itself so it was moving alongside the slowed boat, its saddled back rising temptingly out of the water. A large fishtail shone underwater behind it.

Hugo stood up with a dazed look on his face, smiling some ridiculous grin as he moved to stroke its long nose, still giggling a bit as he went. The magic on the boat was the only thing that kept them from tipping over.

Zoey frowned and grabbed his wrist, "Hugo, what- what is that?" The boy turned and she saw his pupils were dilated and unfocused in the dark night.

"A hippocampus. It wants to give us a ride." Hugo smiled absently as he gently pulled his wrist away to pat hers reassuringly, "C'mon, it'll be faster than waiting. Besides," The boy laughed as he turned to look at it again, "Even James never had the opportunity to make an entrance _this_ grand his first year."

"I think we should stay on the boat," Zoey looked toward Mitchell for support, but found him staring at the hippo-horse thing in the same entranced manner. His fear of water was the only thing stopping him from joining Hugo in stepping over the railing.

Stepping over the- her focus snapped back to Hugo in time to see the redhead straddle the beast, which looked at her with a glowing blue eye again. It was the softest light and Zoey felt herself relax; this was a gentle creature, she was silly to worry… it obviously meant no harm, it was just trying to do them all a favor…

Rasputin pricked her arm with a dozen of his quills. "Ouch!" her gaze flicked down to him in annoyance for moving when he had, and when she looked back up she saw the creature part its lips to grin at her with sharp teeth. _The thing was carnivorous._

Zoey jumped up from her seat, ignoring the displeased hisses of the merpeople as she lunged for Hugo's arm again. "Don't!" she cried but was too late as it started swimming away from the boat with the youngest Weasley. She looked around frantically for help. One person in the boat with her was unconscious, the other was hypnotized, and the last had been kidnapped. Snottgrout was still in the middle of arguing and Zoey's merperson fanclub had disappeared.

A cold snout pressed into her cheek. At least Rasputin was with her.

Mitchell was barely starting to snap out of it as Zoey threw off the heavy school robe and tossed it in his lap, then threw him her shoes and retied her hair back, all without looking away from Hugo. He looked at the clothes he now held in absolute confusion. "What's this for?"

The thing kept bobbing lower in the water with Hugo, only to pull up again in apparent dissatisfaction.

Zoey Malam didn't have time for a word of explanation to the confused kid as she ripped off the charm she'd been fingering earlier, then launched off the side of the boat and dove into the freezing lake.


	9. Ch 9 Rumors and Recognition

**Ch. 9 Rumors and Recognition**

* * *

Whatever it was that had delayed the Start-of-Term Feast, Rose decided it didn't know how grouchy Weasleys could get when they were promised then denied food. Her stomach growled mournfully, and she tried to ignore it as James and Lorcan loudly moaned complaints to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor House ghost.

Luckily Roxanne was sitting between her and the boys, though she too was looking at her empty plate like somebody had died. Rose turned to her left and tried to strike up a conversation with Albus to distract herself, but the black-haired boy was refusing to speak while his brother James was nearby.

Lily was right; the two Potter boys had never fought like this before. Rose didn't know where to start mending the rift between the brothers, but she was glad her cousin was sitting with her Hufflepuff classmates and wasn't here to see more of this. While the Weasley-Potter Clan usually picked one of their various House tables to eat at in groups, even they weren't bold enough to break traditions at an official Feast.

Of course, a Feast would require actual food…

The Great Hall was full of conversations, and it took another ten minutes for the people that weren't out of their mind with hunger to realize that the new First Years should have arrived by now. The scorched Sorting Hat was sitting unused on its stool in front of the Head Table. Professors started looking at each other wearily while students started to speculate, and it wasn't until a side door opened to admit Hagrid that everyone got their answers.

Rubeus Hagrid was a lot older than he had been in the days of the Second War, and it showed in the stiff way he walked and his grey mane of wild hair. Like most wizards he lived longer than muggles, but Rose's mom suspects that it's his giant blood that had let the man keep most of his strength as time went on. Even so, while he kept his position as Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts he had tearfully given up being Groundskeeper in favor of his teaching position for Care of Magical Creatures Class. He had been forced to retire from one of them when it became apparent he could no longer keep up with both.

Rose's first memory of the man was him crying to Mum, Dad, and Uncle Harry in the living room, giving great heaving sobs about how "they can' make meh choose between two of ther greatest thin's in me life"!

Dad had seemed a little disappointed he chose to keep teaching, while Mum and Uncle Harry had been eager to give him advice for his class schedules. After he left they had to buy a new sofa for the living room, and Mum had spent an hour enchanting the new one not to break for the next time he came and sat in it.

The entire hall watched Hagrid shuffle past his seat to tap McGonagall on the shoulder, and everyone grew silent as they strained with curiosity to hear what he had to say to their Headmistress.

They needn't have worked so hard, as even Hagrid's whisper was loud in his excitement as he got to the good part. "Thar seems tah be a Kelpie in deh lake now… firs' year tried ter ride i', and another jumped after 'im…"

Chaotic noise ensued as they watched the Headmistress immediately stand to leave with him, and Rose watched curiously as the new assistant Mister Orion followed her. She wondered how close his relationship was to that Zoey girl who had claimed to help take care of his pet.

"Rose?" She jerked with shock, then disbelief that Albus was speaking to her again and immediately gave him her undivided attention. "What's a kepie?"

"Hagrid mentioned them in Care of Magical Creatures last year," She informed him without annoyance, since that wasn't an elective he had chosen. She noticed the rest of the clan was listening and spoke a bit louder so they could hear her, though she didn't take her eyes of Albus. "They're meat-eating water demons that live in lakes and rivers. They can change into several shapes, but usually takes the form of a horse so that it can get people onto it's back voluntarily when it drowns them."

" _People_?" Roxanne breathed in horror. "It eats humans? Salazar's snakes, what if it ate that first year?"

"We're in Hogwarts, safest place in the world. I'm sure it didn't even get close," Rose assured even as her stomach clenched and she suddenly wasn't quite so hungry anymore. "But I'm sure Hugo will tell us all about it."

* * *

" _Ah-choo_!" Zoethia sneezed explosively for the fifth time that minute, the sound echoing off the walls as she accepted yet another tissue. When she blew her nose it honked louder than her sneeze had, and the tiny girl smiled sheepishly and grew pink as she buried deeper into the towel draped across her shoulders. "Sorry. Can't really help it."

A gwaffing laugh came from her right. "Merlin, it sounds like you swallowed an elephant." Hugo announced, a grin spread across his freckled cheeks. The other first-years had been taken away already, but the two of them had been held behind while Snottgrout had disapparated off to grab Mister Prin, who seemed to be the school Healer as he immediately started checking their injuries.

The best thing he had done was make a dozen thick towels appear, warmed as though they'd just been pulled out of a dryer. It had taken three of them for Zoey to finish drying off, two of them for her hair alone and it was still damp, before she contentedly wrapped herself in a fourth while more adults appeared to hear accounts of what had happened. Trisha had been released first, since she'd been unconscious for most of it, and Mitchell had left just a few minutes ago.

When Miss McGonagall and Jonovan arrived, they had sent Mitchell after the rest of their class with a large man Zoey hadn't met before. Whoever he was he seemed disappointed that he'd been sent away as it was finally explained that the hippocampus was actually a kelpie.

"Mister Weasley." The Headmistress admonished, impatiently waiting for Hugo to finish his account of what had happened.

"Right, sorry. Er, well I don't really remember much else. After they started petting Zoey-"

" _Would you stop calling it that-_ "

"They were petting Zoey," Hugo refused to relent, "And then a hippocampus came up to the boat, and that's where things get kinda funny. I dunno why I wanted to ride him, but Uncle Harry used to have that hippogriff so I knew they were sorta similar. I think Zoey tried to stop me- sorry, I didn't really hear you, honest- and I only noticed something was wrong after it started to swim away from the castle."

"The kelpie kept trying to go down," Zoey couldn't help but add, "But it couldn't because of net the boats were caught in. It was swimming for the nearest edge when I jumped after them."

"It was?" Hugo blinked in astonishment. "Huh, I guess it was. Next thing I properly remember is being thrown off its back and getting caught in the net myself. It was gone by the time you cut me out."

"I didn't get you out. It was Tristan," Zoey announced in a flat voice. "The merman who approached us first."

"A merman named Tristan?" He asked in astonishment.

"A human named Hugo?" She shot back, annoyed and ready to get somewhere with a fire. "Anyways, I needed his help swimming back to a boat after the kelpie bit me." She gestured to her bandaged forearm, where Mister Prin had had to reattach her mangled flesh. Hugo's only injuries was a scrape on the head and some swallowed lakewater, which the Healer had easily taken care of.

"A merman helped you?" McGonagall asked in complete shock. "Why?"

"Huh, you know, I really didn't stop to ask." Zoey winced at herself and immediately apologized as she brought a hand to her temple. "Sorry miss, I'm tired and I have a headache."

"You should get something to eat." Jonovan finally pulled her into a comforting hug the way he'd been dying to, but had tried to resist until they were alone. "Is there anything else you need before I take them back, ma'am?"

His tone didn't match the respectful words at all, and it made McGonagall raise her eyebrows as she looked to the Healer for his assessment of the students' health. He gave a relenting nod. "I'll need to see the girl for the next few days to check on that bite, but I suppose they can both join the Sorting Ceremony for now." He ran a hand down his face wearily. "Patient paperwork _before_ the Start-of-Term Feast; has to be a new record."

Jonovan nodded curtly and walked out without waiting for another confirmation, tugging Zoey along. Rasputin was crooning from his shoulder, relieved to be back with his owner and away from the nasty sea creature.

As soon as they were alone Jon whirled on her and grabbed her shoulders with white knuckles, a frantic look in his eye as he screamed "How can you be so _stupid_? Something magical swims up with teeth and you decide 'oh, I should jump in after it'!"

"Hey, I'm not the one that decided to get on it's back." She crossed her arms defiantly. "And I'd promised the kid he'd see his sister in less than an hour."

They glared in silence, each determined to hold onto their righteous anger but both folded under the pressure at the same time and pulled in for another hug. Jon made sure to avoid her injury as he kissed the top of her head. "Are you sure you're all right? Is your head okay?"

"It's just a headache," She sniffled into his chest as she released tears of relief now that she finally felt safe from the ordeal. "Think it's the cold. Or maybe the stress."

"Ya think?" He laughed humorlessly and wasn't surprised to see her hair had turned dead white this time. It proved their theory about the colors that had seemed random at first. He frowned when she started shaking and held her tighter. "Hey, I'm right here Zo. You're safe."

She nodded even as she kept crying for a few more minutes, carefully lifting her injured right arm to show him her bracelet. "I lost the dagger," Zoey confessed softly. "Could you tell Rex for me? I don't… I just rather not…"

Jon carefully grabbed her hand to inspect her bracelet, from which hung silver charms of a variety of weapons. One of the links was broken, and he nodded. "We'll fix it later." he promised, still refusing to let go of the hug until she wanted him too.

It took another minute for her to pull herself together, but she did, giving him a watery smile. "Thanks Jon. I'm really, really glad you're here."

He gave her a final squeeze before releasing her, looking her over and frowning. "Where's your school robe?"

Zoey grimly pointed to her arm. "I used it to stop the bleeding." Jon nodded approval of her actions and easily summoned another one from her trunk, helping her slide into it before they resumed their way to the Great Hall.

Headmistress McGonagall and Hugo were waiting for them just outside the giant double doors. Hugo grinned at Zoey, noticing her green eyes were puffy but assuming it was from the lingering cold the lake had given her. His eyes did cross in confusion at something else though. "What happened to your hair?"

Zoey laughed a bit, giving him a smile as she stood next to him. "It likes to change."

"Oh," he accepted easily, and Jon wondered how growing up with magic made such ridiculous statements commonplace. Hugo gave Zoey a heavy pat on the back, proudly declaring to his new personal hero "You are _so_ gonna be in Gryffindor."

* * *

When the first years finally walked into the great hall, even Malfoy's group breathed a sigh of relief. It was subtle and more like a unified puff of air, but for Slytherins, it said a lot. It may surprise the other three Houses, but Slytherins also found the idea of a first-year dying to be awful, and the people walking so casually into the hall certainly weren't acting like they'd just watched somebody get drowned and eaten.

Now, if the Slytherins found it vocally amusing that so many Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had to shout across the hall to deduce the same thing, well, that was a comment on their classmates' intelligence. Rather their lack thereof; the Ravenclaws had seemed to catch on well enough.

Scorpius noticed Rose Weasley jump out of her chair, her face deathly pale as her cousins tried to pull her back into her seat. He frowned and watched their heated arguments as the Deputy Head Neville Longbottom explained the Sorting Ceremony to the first years, and started calling them by name.

The Herbology Professor and Gryffindor Head of House handled the Sorting Hat with both hands as gently as though it were a fresh mandrake root, and with good reason. The tattered old thing was covered in soot and falling apart at the seams. Scorpius watched as one of its many rips opened and the entire hall waited in anticipation, then seemed to sigh as the tip of the hat drooped forward.

Draco had once told his son that the Sorting Hat sung a song at every year, but apparently that was no longer the case. The Dark Lord had burned the Hat with Fiendfyre during the Battle of Hogwarts, supposedly while their very own Professor Longbottom had been wearing it, and had damaged it in a way the Professors thought irreparable. There were even rumors that the Sorting Hat would need to be replaced soon, but nobody knew how to create another.

Eventually Professor Longbottom stepped up to continue the ceremony, calling out the names of the students. "Adams, John."

It sat on the head of the first nervous first year for a moment, then cried out in a hoarse voice "… _Hufflepuff…"_

"Hufflepuff." Longbottom repeated the declaration as he gently lifted the hat from the boy's head, and the table of Hufflepuffs broke out in cheers. When they quieted he looked at the next name on his list. "Avery, Marcel."

"… _Slytherin…"_ it choked out again in the aged voice of a chain smoker.

"Slytherin!" Longbottom repeated, and on it went. They had just reached "Daniels, Elisabeth" when the great hall opened and Hagrid walked in, pushing a first year into the crowd with a giant hand the size of the kid's back. The poor boy looked terrified at the attention and quickly weaved into the crowd of first years to hide.

Hagrid took heavy steps back to the Head Table and sat down with a groan, looking unhappy in a way that made Scorpius wonder if the kelpie had been killed to save those students. The giant man had a weird affection for the more dangerous of the magical creatures.

"Gryffindor." Professor Longbottom announced the Hat's decision, and Elisabeth Daniels rushed to join the cheering table on the opposite side of the Hall.

As Scorpius watched he noticed that the Sorting Hat was certainly speaking louder this year than it had ever managed before. It must have self-repairing spells on it, he decided. If he'd been Godric Gryffindor and he'd made a hat that was supposed to last hundreds of years, he certainly would've added that to their enchantment. Then again, that might be assuming too much. Godric _had_ been the original brash Gryffindor, after all.

They had reached "McConner, Sarah" who was put in "… _Ravenclaw…"_ when the door opened again. Headmaster McGonagall strode into her Great Hall with Jonovan Orion, the new Assistant, by her side and two students wrapped in towels. One of whom was notably tall and had quite memorable red hair.

The students grew silent as they realized that none other than a _Legacy_ had fought with the kelpie of the lake, and of course nothing could stop the rest of the Legacy Children from abandoning their Houses to swarm around their youngest hero.

Malfoy rolled his eyes in annoyance as he watched them gather and the rumors started flying. He had no doubt the rumors would twist until the new Weasley became the hero and the tiny girl at his side was the victim, even though Hagrid had plainly told the entire hall that it had been a boy that had gotten on the Kelpie.

The real hero stepped aside to let the family gather, seeming to do her best to disappear even with her albino-white hair, and Scorpius knew from that alone she wasn't prideful enough to be Slytherin. _Must be aiming for Gryffindor_ , he scowled as he watched her take off the towel and hand it to Mister Orion before joining the rest of the first years.

She barely made it two steps before a hand grabbed the back of her collar and dragged her into the sea of Legacy redheads, all of them giving her pats on the back and shaking her hands fiercely. It was only when Rose hugged the girl with tears in her green eyes that Scorpius remembered the newest Weasley was Rose's only brother, and was suddenly doubly glad the boy hadn't been eaten.

McGonagall, having reached the front of the Great Hall, turned to the cluster of Potters and Weasleys and cleared her throat, the sound amplified by a _sonorous_ spell. The Hall silenced rather quickly as the Headmistress addressed the crowd at the back of the group of first years.

"If you would all kindly take your seats, we will resume the Sorting Ceremony."

By the time the Legacies had reluctantly dispersed once more, murmurs had begun traversing the House tables about the new, white-haired student with most of the halls occupants ignoring the rest of the proceedings.

"Gryffindor for sure." Nott sighed, "They may as well skip her name and just tell her to sit down next to the Legacies."

Zambians laughed, "She must be some kind of stupid to jump into the lake."

"Or brave." Scorpius mused. He felt his friends' staring at him and he cleared his throat, adding, "But there is a fine line between the two. If you get away with it, you're brave. If not, _then_ you're stupid."

Nott shrugged, "True, but it doesn't change the fact that she'll be best pals with the Legacies now."

"Unless she gets put in Slytherin." Goyle piped up, "I don't think even the _Legacies_ would dare tarnish their pride so much as to have a friend in our House."

"Nah, she's not ambitious enough- otherwise she'd have jumped at the opportunity to make herself known amongst the Legacies."

"But she is honest- if she's not in Gryffindor for her bravery then she'll be in Hufflepuff for sure."

Scorpius tuned out the extended conversation of House traits as the first year group gradually thinned. Everyone knew that if you were put in Gryffindor you were bound for success, whereas if you were sorted into Slytherin... Well, needless to say the world hated you, but you automatically gained a group of staunch supporters in the same situation. The other two houses were practically nonexistent in terms of notoriety.

True, the kids in Ravenclaw usually became the valued researchers, and the ones in Hufflepuff made wonderfully just lawyers in Wizengamot, but, well, they were no Harry Potters or Hermione Grangers, were they?

When Longbottom announced that the new Weasley was in Hufflepuff, Scorpius raised an eyebrow across the hall to meet James Potter's scathing look. Seemed that the Weasley-red had left Gryffindor for the second year in a row, he mused as the Hugo kid hugged the youngest Potter girl and sat next to her at the black-and-yellow table.

He absentmindedly clapped as Zambini's little sister was sorted into Slytherin and sat between her brother and Marcel Avery.

The albino girl joined Longbottom on the steps, and Scorpius wondered what her last name was. Zephyr? Zydran? He didn't know many last names, especially not ones that start with the letter 'Z'. The girl silently faced the hall as Headmaster McGonagall stood, cast _sonorus_ for the second time and said "That concludes the Sorting Ceremony. However, as you can see, we still have a student left."

She quieted for a moment to let her students consider this. Scorpius looked at Nott and wondered if he'd been right about them skipping the girl's sorting to jam her straight into Gryffindor. It was doubtful, but what else…?

"That is because this student is not to be a first year. She will be transferring straight into the fourth year of Hogwarts." The albino girl tensed as the student's started gossiping and speculating, wondering about whether she came from Beauxbaton's or Durmstrangs.

"As such, there is a different procedure for her Sorting. Each House will present a student that they believe best personifies the qualities of their House, chosen by their Prefects. You have ten minutes to confer."

It was like a challenge, one that every table jumped to meet. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor immediately produced their Head Girl and Head Boy, respectively. As Hufflepuff tried to pick between their students, a few Slytherins had presented themselves to their Prefects. Malfoy had no interest in a magical ceremony he didn't understand, and Nott looked just as displeased by the notion.

After considering for a moment, Priscilla stood from her seat as well. She set a hand out to stop a third-year boy from passing her, looking down at him from the corner of her eye. Scorpius chuckled at his expression when he scurried back to his seat.

There was nary a person at the Hogwarts that could best Priscilla Parkinson in a battle of wills. She was the first child of a Death Eater to enroll in Hogwarts after the Second War and the tale went that after a week of hearing her classmates talk behind her back, she had marched in front of the entire Great Hall and said that if anyone had anything else to say about her family, they should come up and tell it to everyone.

Then the eleven year old had stood there as a line of students who had families in the Second War had taken that advice, marching up to her to say many, many things that would have sent any other child crying in a corner, and she took it silently. Priscilla smoothly walked away from them that day with her head held high, and over the next week every student that had insulted her or her family had been victim of a string of curses and hexes. She had done it in the true Slytherin fashion, not one incident could be traced back to the young Parkinson despite nobody doubting it was her hand, and had protected her family name in that manner for the rest of her first year.

It was somewhat of a legend in their House.

When Scorpius Malfoy, Thomas Nott, and Marcellous Zambini had arrived she had defended their names just as brutally. She had taken to Melissa Goyle even more fiercely a year later, perhaps because the girl had needed it the most. Scorpius wondered if any of them could have stood as strong as she had.

Priscilla had proven her pride and strength and cunning four years ago, and those traits had only grown. As soon as she stood to represent Slytherin, everyone else sat without protest.

Malfoy and his friends beamed with pride as she went before Headmistress McGonagall, who waited patiently for Hufflepuff to present their student. After the four Houses were represented, she spoke to them for a moment, and they stood around the stool that the Sorting Hat rested on.

The Headmistress announced to the Great Hall, "Using the students you yourself have chosen as templates, the Hat will now make its decision on where to place Malam, Zoethia."

Scorpius's head jerked up just as the Hat was lowered to cover the albino girl's eyes. "Who?"


	10. Ch 10 Sorting Things Out

**Ch 10.- Sorting Things Out**

* * *

Priscilla rolled her neck and shot daggers across the stool at Daniel, the Gryffindor Representative. If McGonagall hadn't told them precisely where they had to stand, she would have chosen not to stare at his chiseled face. Then again, that would have meant standing next to him instead. Oh how she hated paradoxes.

Emmaline 'Emma' Wilks was on her right, the bookworm holding her head high, for once, to represent Ravenclaw. Rupert took the last corner of the square and kept his gaze firmly back on his Hufflepuff table.

Priscilla watched as the little albino chick came up to the stool, shifting her weight a little and nodding to each of them in turn. The girl did not look fourteen to the fifteen-year-old Slytherin. Maybe she had placed ahead in some classes?

The Headmistress announced the kids name as "Malam, Zoetia" and Professor Longbottom lowered the Hat, which went down to her nose like it was trying to swallow her head.

Priscilla held her breath so she wouldn't have to breath in Daniel's cologne as the Representatives took a step forward and, like they'd been told, extended their wands to touch the rim of the Sorting Hat. Immediately the dingy old thing responded, its seams ripping open to unfurl like a twisted black flower as smoke poured out.

A shot of silver mist shot up her arm and into her face, and the Slytherin had no choice but to breathe it in, her eyes closing as she was overwhelmed with a dozen impressions and emotions before her mind settled once more.

She felt… confident. Empowered. Nothing would dare look at her and think she was anything less than she was. As Priscilla opened her eyes she wasn't surprised to see the world tinged with green, because what could be more fitting than the world depicted in the color of Slytherin House?

Looking down at the Sorting Hat, she saw that the swirling mist had contracted into something similar to a whirlpool, Runes floating around the edges and small tendrils of memories swimming through the head of the girl she would judge in Salazar Slytherin's place.

The Hat picked the first memory, throwing it up for the Representatives to see. A child formed in the mist, running up to a woman to show her something caught in her hands. They all felt her pride and sense of accomplishment, and the girl's desire to share it with the woman who was obviously her mother.

Priscilla winced as she felt hurt and jealousy because of the emotion, even as the smoke of the vision turned green.

Another vision- the same girl, older, staying with a boy and his family. She was obviously a bit sad, but hid it well as she played with the boy until she was picked up. Beaming as she left with her mother, the child eagerly joined in magical exercises to teach her control even at such an early age.

Emma smiled as a bit of blue seeped into the image.

The next vision was directed by Daniel and Rubert's curiosity, pulling them down to the lake with the girl. They watched her briefly meet the boy and his family, feeling those emotions lead her to jump after the creature that threatened him. Priscilla watched as she first looked for aid before sensibly preparing herself for the fight with the kelpie, and admitted Malfoy had been right. The girl had been brave, but she had been carefully planning even as she considered her own actions stupid.

A bit of each House color joined the smoke this time.

The Sorting Hat seemed displeased at their intervention and threw out a memory almost before the last had finished. The girl was sitting before a hospital bed, where her mother lay unmoving. It blurred until she was with the same family and older boy from earlier, who gave her condolences and welcomed her into their home. They felt the girl hold back her tears for many years, protecting herself as she continued throughout her days without her parents at her side.

Priscila felt a surge of empathy as the smoke turned greener than it had before, with a tinge of yellow and red.

The girl was studying, lounging among a pile of books as she leaned against her childhood friend, who had grown into a man. It was obviously the most recent memory they had seen yet and Priscilla recognized the man with a start as the new History of Magic Assistant. The girl had used his job position to get into the school.

The smoke banished the red and yellow, swirling green and blue evenly. It was almost decided.

The Representatives felt the Hat shudder, as though surprised, and quickly showed them what it had found.

The girl was younger again, alone in a forest. Someplace new and unknown and utterly terrifying to her as she stumbled forward, pain lancing through her leg with every step. Pouring rain and slippery mud tried to deter her as well, but her determination never waned as she refused to even limp. The Representatives finally felt her relief as she made it to the crude shelter she'd made, crawling under the dead branches leaned against eachother and felt their horror mix with her rising guilt at the sight of her mauled, bleeding, and obviously dying friend.

With deft hands she cleaned his wounds with the fresh water she had gathered and forced a disgusting looking poultice of watery berries down his throat, rubbing a similar mixture on his wounds. She ate the dregs he'd been unable to swallow and re-tied the crude splint supporting her leg, curling next to him for warmth as she tried to rest on the soaked floor all while worrying about the creatures that lurked outside…

The vision dispersed with a surge of anger and the Hat shuddered again below their wands. Out of the Sorting Hat's smoke the girl's face appeared, though not as it truly was. Her cheekbones were more square and the entire face was more angled, her eyes slitted like a cat's as they looked each of the Representatives down. Yet the four recognized her emotions as it nodded in the same curt motion the girl had displayed and spoke, the voice soft and whispering in each of their minds.

 _"I thank you all for your considerations, but if you please, make your decision. And get the hell out of my head."_

* * *

Rose held Albus and Roxanne's hands eagerly as she watched the girl who saved her little brother get sorted. Nonetheless part of her was fascinated by the process, watching as the Sorting Hat unfurled and billowing smoke poured out. Four colors- silver, bronze, gold, and black- swirled up the wand arms of the Representatives and they inhaled it, all four heads tilting back as they took in a surge of magic that echoed through Great Hall.

When they lowered their gaze back to the opened Hat, smoke gathered like masks of flames seeping from each Representative's eyes. Priscilla's was Slytherin green, Emma had Ravenclaw blue, Rupert's was Hufflepuff yellow and though she couldn't see his face, Rose was certain Daniel's was their very own Gryffindor red.

"Merlin's beard." she heard James swear softly, watching as the Representative's looked through the thick cauldron-like smoke as though seeing a Prophecy unfold.

Not a sound was heard as the smoke changed colors, a cry going up from the farthest table as the smoke turned green.

Albus turned to Rose in utter shock. "Does that mean she's in Slytherin?"

She shook her head in disbelief. The girl had been strange and a bit uncomfortable to be around at first, but surely she wouldn't be a _Slytherin_?

Rose released the breath she'd been holding when Ravenclaw cheered as blue joined the smoke, and the entire hall entered a shouting fest as the student's screamed for their houses as their colors appeared, strengthened, then left. The only two that stayed consistent were blue and green, and soon Rose felt herself praying _Ravenclaw, RavenclawRavenclaw_ as she refused to believe the girl could be Slytherin.

The Representatives gave a gasp of shock in unison, quieting the Hall as everyone held their breath for the final decision. Rose bit her lip at the look of utter disbelief on Priscilla Parkinson's face, hoping that it meant the girl wouldn't go to Slytherin with that hexing witch.

Then the Sorting Hat sealed itself back together quickly and the four students staggered backwards, clutching their heads as the smoke left their eyes. They were all pale and shaky as they looked each other over, then down to the girl as the Hall held its breath for the Sorting's decision.

Its ripped mouth opened as it bellowed _"RAVENCLAW!"_

Three tables burst into cheers, throwing hats into the air and chanting "Ra-ven Claw, Ra-ven Claw, Ra-ven Claw" over and over as the girl jerked the Hat off her head to follow Emma toward the table of her peers. Rose watched Lysander jump up to reintroduce himself to her before seating her next to him with a grin. She was still shocked Zoey wasn't in Gryffindor, but figured it didn't really matter all that much if the girl was in Ravenclaw instead.

It took a while for the student's enthusiasm to quiet down a bit, and when it did they turned to find that not one faculty member had moved. They were all staring at the Sorting Hat that still sat on the chair where Zoey had left it, their expressions a mixture of surprise and… hope?

The Hat slowly opened its mouth, almost hesitantly, as it started to sing _"You may not think I'm pretty…"_ in a smooth voice. Rose Weasley would swear the thing was smiling as it started to go with a faster, bouncing tune.

 _"Don't judge by what you see._  
 _I'll eat myself the day you find_  
 _A smarter hat than me."_

Rose noticed that tears had started to form in McGonagall and Longbottom's eyes, and many eyes in the room were wide as saucers as the melodic voice easily carried across the Great Hall and grew louder with every verse.

 _"There's nothing hidden in your head_  
 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_  
 _So put me on and I will know_  
 _Where you ought to be._

 _Now put me on, don't be afraid,_  
 _And don't get in a flap!_  
 _You'll find yourself in safe hands_  
 _I am a Thinking cap!_

 _So keep your fancy bowlers black,_  
 _New top hats sleek and tall._  
I'm _the Hogwarts Sorting Hat._  
I CAN CAP THEM ALL!"

The last two lines echoed triumphantly through the Hall with pride. Shocked silence continued for a moment longer, then someone slowly started to clap. Someone else joined in, and then the Great Hall was ringing with hoots and catcalls that continued through the Start-Of-Term Feast. The Sorting Hat kept dipping its tip in bow after bow for the rest of the night, and nobody moved to put it away.

That night provided a great many things for students new and old alike to chatter about as they started the new year. The newest Weasley for one, who had been placed in Hufflepuff and not Gryffindor as was his family's tradition. How the kelpie had gotten into the lake, and what Snottgrout had done to it in order to save the first years (speculation on this went far and wide, from chasing the thing away to capturing it in a complicated plot against Peeves). The song the Sorting Hat sung, which was apparently very similar to what some parents had quoted though no-one was disappointed.

And of course, what had happened to the fourth-year transfer student Zoethia Malam and the Four House Representatives during her Sorting was a big point of speculation. None of them spoke about it again. The only one of them that said anything about it was the Gryffindor Daniel, Head Boy of the school, who supposedly said only one time "Felt like I was stepping up for Godric Gryffindor, and let me say- that Hat is scarier than I thought it was. First thing I'm doing this year is learning Occlumency." Other than repeating that decision, he spoke nothing else about it.

* * *

When the Minister of Magic took a stroll through the British Ministry that day, he came across a rare meeting between the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, and Harry Potter himself.

The aging Head of the Auror Office ran a hand through his messy hair, obviously upset about what the Magizooligists were reporting to him. Kingsley watched them as he signed for the papers a runner handed him, and as he stepped onto the elevator Harry Potter joined him.

The Minister cleared his throat meaningfully. "Something I should know about?"

"You'll hear about it soon enough." The Auror sighed. "There was a breakout from Azkaban."

That was not a good way to end a day, Kingsley decided. "How many this time?"

"Another thirty dementors escaped. Magizooligists wanted to get a list of people in every office that can cast a full fledged patronus." He cleaned his glasses on his sleeve, the disgust in his voice evident. "Damn things have never been happy since we moved the Wizarding Prison to Nabakza instead."

"We took away their food source." The older man reminded him. "And refused to provide them with any more souls to torture. We should be happy we've kept as many locked in Azkaban as we have."

Harry nodded mournfully. "Still, I don't like that there are even more of them out now. Makes it harder to sleep at night, and I can't tell you how many times I've sent Patronuses at Boggarts on accident."

"Don't stop," He said with alarm, "better to be safe than kissed by a dementor."

"True," Harry grunted his agreement, then cleared his throat and asked "Any progress in the, er, you know… the thing _downstairs_?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt once again, with amused affection, pondered the mystery how someone so inept at subtlety had managed to outwit the Voldemort himself. "The Department of Mysteries hasn't found anything more in the last two weeks in the fours years before then. And no," he added before the Auror could ask the next obvious question, "Neither has St. Mungo's, and may I remind you they've had five years longer than we have."

It was not something that he liked admitting, at any time of the day.

They shared a longstanding sigh, then the doors opened and their conversation ended when more people entered in the end-of-the-day rush. Everyone gave the Minister a brief greeting and an even briefer goodbye, until he was alone in elevator.

A terrible day, he decided as he set the files he held on his desk and skimmed through them. He groaned aloud when he saw a letter from Hogwarts, wondering how Jonovan Orion could have something to complain about already. He looked at the wax seal on it for a long moment, then sighed as he opened it and reasoned that the day couldn't get any worse.

Ten minutes later he was holding his head in disbelief. A kelpie, a charm lost to the bottom of the lake, the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts repairing itself, and the attention of the entire school focused on Zoethia Malam. Oh, how the British Minister hated being wrong.

* * *

Rose Weasley walked out of her first Charms class with a full list of the spells she'd need to perform for the final and an essay due next week she was eager to get started on. As usual her fellow Gryffindor's thought she was crazy, but she didn't care. She was her mother's daughter, and if she wanted to be happy about studying then she certainly would be.

Since it was the last class of the day, she decided to escort Hugo from his Transfiguration class to the Great Hall. Her brother hadn't had time to memorize Hogwarts' halls yet, and she'd already had to rescue him from some trick steps.

Slipping behind a tapestry, Rose took the shortcut James had shown her to reach the Transfiguration classroom. The first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were already leaving when she arrived, and she was surprised Hugo wasn't the first to rush out the door. She leaned by a suit of armor while she waited.

When the crowd dispersed without a sign of her brother, Rose figured she must have missed him. She was about to head down to dinner alone when she heard his voice cry from the classroom "No way! You _cheated_."

Shocked at the idea of Hugo voluntarily staying behind in class, Rose spun around the doorway to find her brother crouched over one of the tiny first-year desks, sputtering as he looked at something. "But… but that's not fair."

"Pay up." Said the onyx-haired girl next to him, holding her hand out as she raised a brown eyebrow with a smirk.

"But…" Hugo looked at her moment then sighed as he reached into his pockets and pulled out a few Sickles. "You're terrible. You knew you'd win."

"Yup." She grinned as she took her earnings, then perked up as she caught sight of the figure staring in the doorway. "Hey Rose!"

It took another moment to recognize who she was with the new haircolor. "Zoey?" Rose gaped as she walked in. "What happened to your hair?"

The girl in question sniggered while Hugo quoted "It likes to change."

"What're you doing here, Rose?"

"What am I doing here?" The Weasley looked the girl up and down as her mind caught up to the situation. "I have a brother taking this class. What are you doing here?"

The brown eyebrow went up again. "I'm taking this class." Something about Rose's expression was apparently entertaining to the other fourth year, because Zoey laughed. Not in a taunting, look-who's-so-ignorant kind of way, but an enjoyed, isn't-this-fun-to-everyone kind of manner. Still smiling, she explained "I took a lot of tests before transferring. Even though I'm technically a fourth-year, I'm taking a lot of classes at lower levels."

Rose, who had spent the last three years absorbing information like a sponge, couldn't believe it. "You- you're my age, and you're taking a class with first years?"

"Two classes." She held her fingers up as if the number needed exaggeration. "Apparently, my Knockback Jinx was so atrocious that Professor Sybble refused to consider teaching me Defense Against the Dark Arts at any other level."

It shouldn't have been possible, but Rose felt herself pale even further as she whispered in shock "You can't cast a _Knockback_ Jinx?"

Hugo found an opportunity to jump in on the conversation and took it. "You can see why I doubted whether she could transfigure a box of matches into needles?"

"Your brother here, once he heard my situation, decided to tease me about it. And I," She declared as her grin grew even wider, "decided it would be a lovely opportunity to teach him a good lesson about jumping to conclusions."

He glared down at the shorter girl. "You mean you decided it would be a good chance to line your pockets."

"That too." She tauntingly twirled one of the Sickles he'd lost around her left fingers, without having to look at the coin.

Rose looked at the desk full of needles in front of them and shook her head, amazed that a Ravenclaw was being so nonchalant about her horrid lack of understanding. "We're going to be late to dinner." She finally declared, not trusting herself to comment on what she'd learned without insulting her brother's savior.

Hugo's stomach growled to emphasize her point, and he bent to pack his stuff. Zoey started gathering the needles, careful of their points, nearly giving Rose a heart attack when she put them straight into the matchbox. "Zoey!" She scolded. "You can't put those back without reverting them; otherwise Professor Patil will need to do a counter-charm on every one of them."

"Obviously." The girl agreed, casually holding the box out for inspection.

Rose looked inside and was shocked to see a dozen matches. "But… but all you did was pick them up!"

"Yup." Hugo agreed.

"She didn't even use her wand! Or say a word!" Rose looked at her brother, wanting confirmation that this was actually what happened.

"That's what I said. Apparently, it's not cheating."

"Not-?" Rose looked between the two of them in shock. "Wandless and wordless transfiguration is advanced on any level! I won't start that till next year! Why are you in class with him?"

Hugo looked insulted, while Zoey just shrugged again. "Some spell named 'afipours'."

"Avifors." Rose corrected. "You can't cast that either?"

Zoey shook her head, her newly-black hair reflecting the light. She casually reached out to reclaim the matchbox from Rose's limp fingers and put it back with the other supplies. "Miss Patil gave me a choice though, but I figured it would be best for me to start with the basics after all." She caught Rose's green eyes from the corner of her own. "I waited a long time to come here. I don't want to miss anything."

Now that was something a Ravenclaw would say. Rose sighed as she nodded her understanding, even though it was only a very little bit of the thousand questions that now flew around her head. Zoey's magic was obviously strong and under her control; how could she fail to perform two of the most basic spells at even a satisfactory level? The Weasley decided she would investigate this as soon as possible. Her stomach growled louder Hugo's. She glanced down, too used to it to be embarrassed as she amended her plan.

Rose Weasley decided she would have to investigate this further- _after_ dinner.

* * *

Scorpius checked around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, then strode confidently down the hall. Malfoys never skulked or snuck around- unless there was a certain James Potter around to sic Peeves on- so that is most certainly not what Scorpius was doing. He was just not in the mood to be around other people, who would question what he was doing and why.

What he was doing was making painfully slow process, he griped as he looked around another corner. He again picked up his pace and knew most people will still be pigging out at dinner. For some mysterious reason, Hogwarts students always seemed the hungriest on Wednesdays and Fridays. But on Fridays everybody was too eager to enjoy the evening to stick around the Great Hall.

He checked the next hallways and eventually his luck ran out; there were voices coming from an open door, some unused classroom.

"Jon, if you keep this up, I'm gonna be feeding a skeleton." A girl sighed, and was answered with mumbles. Scorpius assumed whoever she was talking to was eating. "No, that would not be 'cool'! It's the first week and you're already starving yourself to work."

Scorpius looked down the hallway. It was the fastest way down to the Grounds. Glancing at the door, he decided to risk them stepping out in favor of the time he'd gain.

"That's because it's the first week." Someone answered. "Look, Zoey, I want to make a good impression on my first day. Tomorrow's my first fourth-year-lesson, and I need to make sure I match up with Binns."

"Which you've done for a month! You should- _oww_ ," the girl cut herself off with a long hiss of pain that would have made a Parseltongue proud.

There was a long moment of silence, and Scorpius found himself tempted to look inside the door as he walked past.

"Fine. I'll take a thirty-minute break, if you go get something from Prin for that. Right now."

"...Fine."

If Scorpius Hyperion were not a Malfoy and notably above such immature displays, he would have been tempted to bang his head against the broomstick handle he was holding. Since he was a Malfoy, he straightened his spine with the knowledge he would soon have an observer and picked up his pace. With any luck she'd let him walk off and go the other way.

It was the first week of school. One should never count on luck in the first week of school.

"Um, excuse me!" She was obviously talking to him.

Scorpius paused, looked up to the ceiling as he set a scowl of annoyance on his face, and turned around to find a walking pumpkin. He had to blink a few times to realize it wasn't a pumpkin but hair, vibrantly orange and attached to the head of a very small person.

The girl looked up at him and grinned with sparkling emerald eyes. "Oh hey!"

"Hey." He found himself repeating her statement, suddenly curious. Would Malam remember him? They had spent barely an hour together overall and it had been a whole summer ago. The only reason Scorpius had even thought of her before her grand entrance into the Sorting Ceremony had been an old note she'd left him. She had no reason to remember him at all.

Except for his family fame, of course. Suddenly Scorpius regretted the fact that he hadn't told her his first name. Even if she called him 'Malfoy' again it could be that she'd finally heard about his death-eater past. If she called him Scorpius instead of his family title, he could have been sure she remembered him.

"Do you mind if I walk with you?" Malam gestured down the hall with her wrist, undeterred by his silence or, he realized, the scowl that was still on his face. "I know the Hospital Wing is somewhere down that way, on the way to the quidditch pitch, at least. But the last time I took this hallway it did something weird."

He knew exactly what she was talking about. If someone walked on the left side of this hall between two of the torches it would split into two and dump the walker into the parallel hallway that turned away from the school grounds. One of Hogwarts' many tricks that took years of experience to figure out. Scorpius nodded an okay and as he turned to walk away, he realized what she'd said. "I'm not going to the quidditch pitch."

She look down at his broom and casually rapped it with her knuckles. "What's this for, then? You planning to sweep a classroom? Is it even any good for sweeping- those bristles are really thick, may as well use a club. Can you use a sweeping broom to fly? Is it still possible or do people just consider it taboo?"

Scorpius started to remember the intense irritation her ignorance could cause. "You do not 'sweep a classroom' with a Nimbus-2022." He sneered at the notion and didn't bother to address the ridiculousness of the second half of her query.

Malam nodded, starting to bring her curved finger up to her lips the way she had last year but flinching partway through. She lowered the arm tenderly and Scorpius followed the motion with his eyes.

"That why you're going to the Hospital Wing?" He noticed her striped stockings poking out from beneath her robes with her every step and had to hold back a grin.

"Kelpie bite." She nodded and pushed up her robe sleeve to show him the bloodied bandages. "Nasty thing gave itself rows of shark teeth."

He looked at the freshly-soaked wrappings in horror. "Why haven't you healed it yet?"

"He did. See, full range of motion." She wiggled her fingers to demonstrate. "Muscles and tendons and ligaments are all back in place, but he stopped at the skin layer. I just keep pulling the scabs on accident."

"Why stop at the skin?" Malfoy asked, marveling at how casual she was being about the fact something had tried to _eat her_.

"Less scarring. I've had enough of those." Her eyes darkened, then she blinked and turned them away as her cheeks turned pink. "Sorry, didn't mean to be a downer. Thanks for walking me here."

Malfoy looked up and realized that he had indeed walked her all the way to the doors of the Hospital Wing. "Sure." He told her blandly, not wanting to say 'anytime' or 'your welcome' because then she may start to think this was something he usually did.

"Um… can I ask a question?" She made no move to walk away, shifting her weight from foot to foot instead. She must have taken his silence as permission because she blurbed "Okay, I know you said you weren't going to the pitch but you're obviously aiming to go somewhere outside with that broom so why don't you just, I dunno, fly out a window, instead of walking the hallways?"

Scorpius felt his mind short circuit in an uncomfortably familiar manner and his left eye twitch. He casually said "We're not allowed to ride brooms between classes." Thankfully she didn't point out that classes were done for the day.

"Ah." She said with a nod, then stepped forward. "One more thing…"

He had barely raised an eyebrow when her uninjured arm shot out and punched his bicep. The Malfoy grunted a bit and kneaded it, knowing it would easily bruise on his pale complexion. "That's how you thank someone, Malam?"

Her eyes finally shone again as she flicked her ponytail back over her shoulder. "I told you it would happen eventually, Malfoy."

Scorpius turned after she went to search for Mister Prin, striding toward the closest open window. As he mounted his broom to fly straight outside, he was smiling.

It seemed Wainbata Malam could keep a promise after all.


	11. Ch 11 First for Everything

**Ch. 11- First for Everything**

* * *

Moment of truth, Scorpius warned as he, Nott, and Zambini prepared for their first dreaded History of Magic class of the year.

The first day was the only one you would ever find student's arriving to Professor Binn's classroom early. It was everyone's one chance to claim the seats at the back of the classrooms where snoring would be less embarrassing.

However Zambini, when he heard Nott and Scorpius's plan, started laughing. He just grinned and announced. "Trust me mates, we want seats opposite the windows."

"Why don't you just tell us what this 'amazing' assistant did last year that has you excited to get us to this class?" Nott asked rhetorically, knowing the answer.

Sure enough, Zambini only shook his head and said "Spoil the surprise."

Nott didn't press it in favor of gathering his stuff to run to class and get his usual seat- back left corner, with a bit of sunshine to keep him warm. Last year he'd chased a Hufflepuff away with a stinging hex to get it back.

"That reminds me," Scorpius murmured and pulled out their class schedule. "Who're we sharing the class with this year?"

"Gryffindors." Nott and Zambini chorused with a groan, and Scorpius joined in. An entire year of sitting through the world's most boring class with none other than Thorn Weasley herself.

That really was such a perfect nickname for Rose, he grinned as he walked inside and was shocked to find the room rearranged from last year. While Professor Binns' blackboard was still at the front of the class, the four bookshelves lining the right wall had been shoved separate, with enough room for a fifth to fit in the empty space in the middle. The desks were angled to point at the corner of the room instead of the front, and there was a weird little box with some sort of periscope floating by the windows.

The students already there had their stuff set down and were looking at it eagerly. Mister Orion was fiddling with a small glass orb in his hand, twisting it around with a grin on his face. He smiled more as he saw the three Slytherins enter. "Wonderful! That's everyone. Now find your seats, the Professor will be here momentarily."

Nott immediately started toward his spot, and when he arrived his expression turned murderous. "Why does my desk have a Weasley's name on it?" Scorpius saw Rose look up from her conversation with Albus in surprise.

"That would be because that's her seat, Mister Nott." This Assistant apparently didn't know how strong his student's stinging hex could be, since he pointed toward the front of the class. "I believe your name is over there."

"This is my seat." Nott declared and sat down, staring at the Assistant defiantly.

The room grew quiet as they watched the Slytherin be the first to test the new member of Hogwarts Faculty. Mister Orion didn't look surprised, insulted or upset as he asked "That so?"

Scorpius could practically hear Nott think total pushover as he kicked his feet up, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Yeah it is, Mister. And I think I want to stay in it."

Orion sighed in a disappointed way, handing one of the many girls surrounding him the crystal ball he'd been fingering. "Are you absolutely sure?"

The Slytherins in the room started to laugh. "Of course," Nott sniggered at Orion, his dislike obvious, and as soon as he did Scorpius caught a very Salazar gleam shoot through the man's eyes.

"Well in that case-" Their assistant lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, turning to walk toward the front of his class. "I wouldn't want to separate a student from their favorite seat in their first class with me."

The desk Nott had so proudly claimed started to vibrate, then it lifted into the air. He gaped over the side of it at his friends, only to tip it over to hang upside-down. His butt stayed firmly glued to his seat and his feet that had been atop the desk were dangling down with his arms. While Gryffindors started to laugh, Nott flailed around to try and right himself. "Zambini! Help me out!"

Scorpius looked at their mutual friend only to find him laughing along with the Gryffindors in the room, and found himself holding back a few sniggers as well. It seemed the new Assistant had a sense of humor. Orion seemed unaware of their amusement as he wandered between the rows of desks, murmuring "Nott, Nott… I seem to be having a bit of trouble finding your spot, lad. Here, let me know if you can see it." He waved in the universal 'come' motion and the upside-down desk shot forward, spinning as it went before it jerked to a stop with its occupant hanging at the Assistant's side.

Laughter ensued at the nauseated look on Notts face and the completely nonplussed one Orion gave him as he asked "Do you see it? No? Well, let's check over here next." And he once again sent the boy spinning a few feet above their heads as he moved to another area of the room.

The amusement lasted until Mister Orion finally cried out "Ah, here you are!" And with another snap of his fingers lifted the desk with Nott's name on it to lower the person himself, finally right-side up, in it's place. The empty desk gracefully levitated to the back of the room as Nott swerved in his seat, looking decidedly green.

"Enjoy your favorite chair, Mister Nott. Oh, and keep in mind that we will change seating assignments three more times this year." His voice had remained soft and kind throughout the ordeal, and Scorpius knew that the man would undoubtedly have been a Slytherin. The assistant deftly knocked Nott's feet off the desk, turning toward their audience and crossing his arms. "Well? Has no-one else found their seats yet?"

Slytherin and Gryffindor alike quickly dispersed to find their names, and Scorpius paused to pat his friend on the back. "Glad you kept your seat, mate."

Nott tried to glare, but failed utterly and only made the people watching laugh some more.

Scorpius's own amusement faded when he saw who he was seated next to. "Potter." He sneered at the carbon copy of the Chosen One.

"Scorpius." Albus replied blandly, pulling out his notes.

That done, they both got ready for class. Scorpius saw Albus cast a cushioning charm on top of his desk and wondered why he hadn't thought of that first.

"Thankyou Miss Chang." Orion reclaimed the crystal orb from the asian girl he'd given it to, who practically melted under his praise. The attractive assistant held it up to his lips and whispered "Lumos" as the ghost of Professor Binns floated through the closed classroom door.

The ghost briefly took roll call and turned to the board, starting to explain the Giant Wars in his usual droning voice. Scorpius had just started to fall asleep when a light shone on his right, and he turned to find a large, crude illustration of a giant strolling forward.

Binns continued to say in his monotone voice "...They are notably stupid creatures, with limited capabilities to speak any language. When in confined spaces they have a tendency to fight over meaningless things…"

Suddenly the giant was stuck in the middle of a crowd, and as he tried to walk he accidentally ran into another giant. The class erupted in sniggers as they watched the giants suddenly jump at eachother, pulling hair and poking eyes like toddlers.

Curious as to how this was happening, Scorpius looked around to find the Assistant standing behind the floating box, placing pieces of paper with moving cartoons to match what Binns was droning on about. Each of the tiny images somehow appeared on the right wall, between the moved bookshelves. Almost nobody was looking at the board, though there were notably more quills in motion since everyone was actually awake still.

"A projector," Albus murmured, having followed the gaze to the contraption that Orion was using. "We learned about them in Muggle Studies. Shouldn't work in Hogwarts, though."

"If muggles can do it with their elecksity," Scorpius sneered and was horribly aware he'd said the word wrong when he saw Potter's amused expression, "Then he can do it with magic."

The class passed relatively quickly and Scorpius found that he'd only nodded off once. It was a hard habit to break and even cartoons couldn't make the long list of date's Binns gave them any more tolerable. As they gathered to leave Zambini was beaming. "He's cool, right? And that's not even the best thing he does!"

"Careful mate," Nott grumbled, but even he couldn't deny how much better this History class had been. He still pointed to the Assistant that was surrounded by his fangirls. "Or else you'll be squealing for his autograph next.

Scorpius glanced at them and was annoyed to find Rose among the crowd waiting to get to know Mister Orion better. The man was explaining the pojeckter to them. "It's very simple, really, you just need a few mirrors and concave glass and then a light to voila!" He gestured to the wall. "Easily recreated with a lumos spell. My schools used them all the time."

"Was that Durmstrang?" The Chang girl who had held the orb for him batted her eyes, and Malfoy felt a bit sick.

"Nah, that was back in middle school. Muggle class." He announced casually, and some of the Slytherin girls lost interest and walked away. Rose Weasley, however, didn't move from her spot as she continued to watch.

Scorpius rolled his eyes and looked away, mumbling to himself about stupid, shallow witches as he joined Nott and Zambini. They found a Ravenclaw robe among the sea of red and green, the girl passing out a stack of papers to anyone that took them.

"Quick survey for History class, the Assistant wants to see what you remember. There's a request section at the bottom in case there's anything you want to cover specifically, he tutor's on Friday afternoons."

She grinned when one of the girls taking a flyer groaned. "Fridays?"

"Better than Saturdays." The girl winked a green eye at her. "Leave them on the Head Table anytime, or give them to Jon- Mister Orion directly."

When Zambini took one of the flyers, he did a double-take at the girl. "Wait, aren't you the transfer student?"

"Oh very good." She grinned and ran her fingers through ink-black hair. "Takes most people a bit longer and no, the white hair wasn't natural either."

"And your name was…" Nott prompted, curious as well and interested in keeping the girl talking.

"Zoethia Malam." She smiled and held out her hand. "But everyone calls me Zoey. Nice to meet you."

It took a moment for him to realize what her hand was for, and he hastily took it. "I'm Thomas Nott, and he's Marcellous Zambini."

Malam shook his hand too then looked up at Malfoy, casually asking "And what was your name, again?"

"Just call me Malfoy." Scorpius grinned at her as he shook her hand to introduce himself to her for the second time, once more neglecting to tell her his first name. "And I'm sorry, but I don't really see you as a 'Zoey', Malam." He mouthed 'Wainbata' at her slowly, ignoring his friends' confusion.

Malam used the handshake to claw him a bit with her nails, but there was amusement dancing in her emerald eyes. She handed him a flyer as well and moved on, "So what did you guys think of the Assistant? He's a bit of a character, but he loves keeping class active. What do ya'll think of his doodles? Too much, too little? I think he made the giants heads' too small. They looked more like trolls."

The three boys looked at each other warily the more she spoke. It seemed she either didn't know or didn't care about the prejudice that separated Slytherin House from the rest of the school, since she was still talking to them in front of Gryffindors. Scorpius voted on the first possibility as he answered "It was good. Loads better than usual."

Malam smiled as the crowds cleared out. "Cool! He'll be glad to hear it. Make sure you get those back to him."

Nott groaned as she walked into the classroom they'd just left. "Great, another fangirl."

"How can you tell?" Zambini asked as he scanned the parchment she'd given them.

"She's Ravenclaw. She's not in this class, yet she already knew what he showed us. She must have run after finishing her own class to get here before we let out, and she almost called the bloke by his first name. Yeah, she's a fangirl."

They all looked through the open door to see near every girl in class still gathered around the Assistant. Zoey handed Rose one of the forms, who beamed back at the multi-haired girl, and this time Malfoy voiced his annoyance with a scowl as they walked off.

"Stupid, shallow witches."

* * *

"What is this?"

Lysander glanced up from his book for what felt like the millionth time that Friday evening; Zoey had an endless amount of questions and insights to share, and she would pester everyone around her until she got her answers. If she wasn't in Ravenclaw, her peers would have found it annoying rather than intriguing.

As it was, the transfer student had sparked half a dozen new debate topics in the Ravenclaw Tower in her first week here. But just as often, she would ask about the most horribly obvious things, and Lysander hand been unofficially appointed as her walking answerbook. He supposed it was because he had been the first Ravenclaw she knew, since he'd interrupted the Sorting Ceremony to check on Hugo and then thank his savior.

He'd never forget how embarrassed she'd looked when he first met her, as though she really didn't think she'd done anything special. Her protests had been cut off when the albino girl had been enveloped in a crushing hug from Rose, and then she'd met the rest of the clan in rapid succession.

When she joined his house Lysander couldn't have been happier; she was interesting, and now he'd have the chance to get to know her without being in the middle of the entire clan. He had volunteered to show her to House Common Room separate from the first years.

The Ravenclaw Common room was at the top of a tall tower with a winding staircase, and instead of a password like Gryffindor or Slytherin- which Lysander thought was incredibly dull for Hogwarts- the door to the Ravenclaw Tower could only be opened with the answer to a riddle.

After using the eagle knocker and hearing it give a riddle for the first time- "What do the poor have, the rich require, and all contented men desire?"- Zoey had spent a good twenty minutes talking to the knocker itself, asking about where the questions came from and how it learned new ones, if at all?

Lysander had been amused until she promised to find a book of riddles to compare with it, and then promptly asked him where the best book of riddles was in Hogwarts.

The Common Room itself had rendered Zoey speechless for a good five minutes. Over a thousand years of Hogwarts history, the Ravenclaw House had amassed an exclusive library for them to use. Every topic from Excotic Magical Plants and How to Prune Them to Beedle the Bard's Babbitty Wabbitty and her Cackling Stump was shelved around their round tower room, with a roaring fire hearth in the middle. The Tower ceiling was painted with a blue sky and stars, and the rug over the floor was Ravenclaw blue. Tables, chairs, couches, and even the large panoramic windows had bronze finishing.

After she finished taking everything in with wide green eyes, Zoey had yanked her shoes off to feel the soft carpet with a squeal and ran from window to window, pointing and gasping at the views like a little kid in her blue-striped stockings. The entire House had been entertained at her antics, especially when the first years had started to follow her example to do the same. That evening had been spent with barefoot people dashing from place to place and exploring their new home with very little decorum. Now most everybody in the House left their shoes at the door of the Tower. Lysander had started to use charms against the odor they produced, and caught some other higher years doing the same, though nobody complained.

Zoey's child-like exuberance had yet to wane and now after a week the young witch, silver-haired for this hour, was pointing to a sheet of paper on the notice board as she continued her question "And why does it have your name on it?"

Lysander grinned as he saw which notice she was pointing to, and deemed this conversation worthy of more attention as he put his book away. "That's the sign-up sheet for the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team tryouts. There's another copy down in the Great Hall. My name's on it because I'm trying to keep my position."

"Which is?"

"Keeper."

"Nice. I can see you being good at that." Zoey looked at the board, noticing the short and long lists of names. "It looks like you only have to beat out a few people for it. Why are so many people signing up for the Seeker position?"

"It's the best player on the team." Lysander answered easily. "And whoever's back-up this year will probably be the Seeker next year when Emmaline graduates." He pointed to the captain name written at the top, and was surprised when Zoey made a frustrated sound at the back of her throat.

"They're willing to bench a year of game-time for a 'probably'?" She looked personally affronted. "What, do they think that'd be better than playing Chaser on the field? Or as a Beater? It's nice they have a goal, but it's stupid not to have a fallback."

Lysander raised an eyebrow in silent agreement. "You're a quidditch fan, then?"

"Kind of hard not to be," She snorted, "I like watching for the plays and strategies, but I don't have a team."

"You do now. Blue and bronze." The Ravenclaw declared with pride, then added as an afterthought "You gonna try out?"

"Probably not," Zoey admitted "I've barely been on a broom. How do you tryout anyways? Just write your name and you're expected to show? It says 'bring your own broom' too; that doesn't seem fair, that'll make some people loads faster from the get-go. Do you have to bring your own for the games as well?"

Lysander easily kept track and answered her rapid-fire questions. "Just write your name and Emmaline expects you to show. If you're not there, you don't join. Every player brings their own broom for all the games and practices, but the school will loan some out to students if they don't have one. The brooms may have different top speeds, but if you're not used to the turns that can be worse than flying a slow one. Why haven't you ridden brooms before?" He finished with a question of his own.

"I grew up around muggles. Only time I got to carry my Thunderbolt out of the house was on Halloween, and even then it was hard to find someplace private." She grinned at a memory. "And I sorta lost privileges to fly it inside pretty quickly."

"You have a Thunderbolt and never got to fly it?"

She laughed at his insulted expression. "It's only a Thunderbolt III, not a VII. Certainly not as often as I'd have liked, no. I used to zip close to the ground when I could, because even though I might get up without being seen, there was no way to check for random stargazers on my way back down. "

'Insulted' was the right description for what Lysander thought of it. The Thunderbolt brand was a close competitor to the Firebolts; even older models were still top quality, especially for a student. They deserved to be used in they way they were meant to, free and fast. "Come watch the Gryffindor tryouts after dinner." he decided.

"Gryffindor? I thought my team was now-"

"Only person we'll cheer for is my brother. Lorcan's actually trying out this year," Lysander quickly explained with a trace of awe at the fact, then refocused on the more pressing issue of an underused Thunderbolt III. "I think you should see how a broom is supposed to be ridden. And who knows, you might get inspired to try out for our team."

"I doubt it," Zoey's face scrunched. "But I'll watch. Should be fun."

Lysander nodded and went back to his book with his usual apathy, but he'd made an important decision. He was going to get her on that broom, or he was going to use it himself.

* * *

"TIME!" James Potter's voice boomed over the quidditch pitch, and Rose Weasley finally lowered her arm.

Ten straight minutes of batting a bludger back at Roxanne, and it felt like her hand had fused into the club. Rose's only consolation was that Rox was rolling her shoulders too, grinning and giving a thumbs up.

Easily lowering her broom to the ground, Rose lifted a hand to her hair and was unsurprised to find the thick curls had exploded around her head. Grumbling, she pulled her wand out of her boot and used a spell Dominique had taught her.

Yes, the boy-crazy Dom had actually known something Rose hadn't. That girl knew every possible kind of beauty trick, magical or mundane. When she graduated she was planning to help Uncle George develop more products for the WonderWitch section of the shop. A section Dom decrees 'woefully underdeveloped' in its entirety, and since Dominique was part veela she had an eye for such things. Rose believed Dom's story that Uncle George had already used her advice on the newest Crush Blush. Her uncle was a prankster, not a romantic.

The spell successfully unfrizzed her thick hair enough for Rose to retie it in a ponytail, watching the next contestant as she did so. After he missed three hits in a row Rose knew he wouldn't beat her for the position, and she grabbed the broom that had hovered patiently at her side.

She walked up to the waiting area with the other hopefuls, fans and friends alike gathered in the bleacher stands above them. Rose grinned nervously at Albus, Hugo and Lily, and looked around at the rest of the gathered clan. She wasn't surprised to see Lysander, but the electric-blue Zoey at his side was unexpected, especially since she was sitting by a hard broomcase.

Gathering herself, Rose stepped up to them and asked "What're you two doing here?"

"Seeing how brooms are supposed to be flown?" Zoey's answer was more of a question as she glanced at Lysander, who nodded approvingly even though he didn't look up from his book. "And hopefully I'm gonna fly myself after ya'll finish."

Rose glanced at the enclosed broom, and nodded approvingly. She couldn't tell what model it was yet, but only high quality brooms came with cases like that. "So how are your classes going?"

Zoey sat up at the intensity behind the question, and raised an eyebrow. "It's only been the first week, Rose. Not much to 'go' yet. But homework, if that counts. I have to meet a partner to re-practice first year charms tomorrow."

"With me!" Lily piped in with a smile. "Professor Pavarti paired us up. Everyone was so jealous."

"Speaking of," Zoey leaned back so she could see Lily around Lysander's back. "What's with the twin teachers? Pavarti Patil teaching charms and Padma Patil teaching transfiguration? They look like clones. How do you tell them apart? Do they ever switch places to tease the students? That'd be pretty great."

Rose watched them instead of listening, retreating into her own thoughts once again. That was three classes Zoey was taking below her year. Yet she obviously wasn't an idiot, otherwise she wouldn't be in Ravenclaw, let alone friends with Lysander. The only idiot he could stand to be around was his twin Lorcan, and even that was in limited doses.

The twin in question was the last person to tryout, and Lorcan was grinning from ear to ear as he pulled out his broom.

Lily took a look at the modifications on it and gave a groaning laugh. "He's doing it again."

Lysander looked equally disappointed when he glanced at his brother, then summoned earplugs and casually put them in. Zoey looked between the twins in confusion, and jumped in her seat when Lorcan's voice echoes "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Witches and scamps, cock-eyed mosquitoes and bowlegged ants- are you tired of your old broom?"

The blue haired witch was staring wide eyed, the only person in the stands to have no idea what was going on as Lorcan continued "Ladies, do you want to catch that special fellow's eye with a romantic flight over the grounds? GEN-TLE-MEN, is your broom old and unattractive? So slow and scratched that no proper young witch would come come near it? Never fear, the new VROOM BROOM is here!"

He jumped on his broom and started flying slow circles, showing off the newest version of the favorite Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product that could attach to any broom. The Gryffindor team, with varying levels of aggravation and amusement, started putting away the tryout courses and their brooms. James was the only one that stepped onto the field and started shouting at his friend to come down, his face growing red the more he was ignored.

Eventually the Potter got on his own broom and flew after the troublemaking twin, obviously intending to force him to land. Lorcan grinned. "And it's not just easy on the eyes, oh no. The newest Vroom Broom has additional features!" And colored mist started pouring out of the bristles of his broom as he easily avoided James.

"A wonderful way to write a friend!" he started twirling, leaving curly cues and drawing a flower in the air. Lorcan winked at a cute Hufflepuff in the stands. "Or maybe as a convenient way to gain privacy."

James watched his cousin disappear into the clouds he had created, dive bombing through it in a poor attempt to find him. While the crowd watched with amusement, Roxanne shouted as she left the pitch. "Don't forget the mist is flavored!"

"I was about to say that!" Lorcan scowled as he reappeared, then grinned when Rox stuck her tongue out at him. He cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. "She's right, folks! Forget dry cauldron smoke, the mists of the Vroom Broom comes in chocolate, strawberry, or pumpkin flavoring!"

James came back out of the smoke, looking positively murderous as his glasses hung haphazardly off his ear. Lorcan took this as his cue to leave, making more mist as he said "Check out the Hogsmead shop this year, folks! The Vroom Broom and other top Wheezes products will be on display and available for purchase!"

His last few words were barely audible as he flew off, James hot on his heels until another puff of smoke forced his friend to fall back. Zoey looked around to see most of the crowd dispersing, and shook her head with annoyance. "Didn't know wizards had commercial breaks too."

Hugo and Lily laughed, explaining to her what Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was and how they were related to the owners. By the time they finished the story and swore it was all true- "They made an actual swamp in the middle of the school?"- everyone other than the Potter-Weasley clan had left. Lysander looked at her casually and said "You should give it a try now."

"Oh." Zoey looked around and noticed that the crowd had dwindled to five- Rose, Lysander, Rose, Lily and herself- then perked up. "Oh yeah, that's right! Ya'll can watch."

Her smile was blinding, and as the blue-haired witch fumbled with the clasps holding down her broom Rose leaned toward Lysander and asked what that was supposed to mean. To the general shock of his clanmates, he put his book away as he answered "She grew up with muggles, so she's not used to having an audience."

Zoey put her case on the banister in front of the seats and stepped up after it. "Something Sandy over there thinks is a crime, apparently."

"Sandy?" Everyone looked at Lysander in surprise, who in turn looked uncharacteristically flustered as he said "Never call me that again."

Her eyes sparkled as she held a hand over the broomcase. "Sorry Sandy. Up!"

Rose gasped in surprise when she saw the broom that eagerly met her waiting hand. It was sleek and silver-embossed, expertly cared for. Not a bristle was out of place and it was so well polished it reflected light like a dark glass. The foot-rests were the only proof of it's age, as they held slight dents from being used so much. She barely breathed "Is… is that a Thunderbolt?"

"Uh-huh. It used to be my mom's." Zoey's hair fell around her face as she mounted the broom and hovered easily. She put a hand on her hip as she looked at the Thunderbolt from different angles, as though instructions would suddenly appear. "Now lets see… been a while… I think I need to… this!"

She shot forward and up with ease, zooming through the air with a peal of laughter to disappear inside the vroom broom smoke Lorcan had spread across the pitch. The assorted friends in the stand watched her go, and Rose wondered if she should get on her broom to follow and make sure the girl was okay.

After a little while the broom shot straight up out of the clouds, Zoey's tinkling laugh echoing as she cried "This is amazing!" She kept going higher and higher, and while Lily and Hugo cheered Rose shared a nervous look with Lysander before mounting her broom and circling the bottom of the pitch.

Eventually Zoey started zooming back toward the ground, twisting and spinning in a way that made everyone fear she'd lost control. But Rose saw her face as she approached, and the girl's grin was still a mile wide. The Ravenclaw twisted away from the stands at the last second to smoothly fly alongside the other girl, panting with excitement. "That… was amazing!"

Rose laughed at her expression. "So I heard!" She glanced at her posture. "Straighten your spine! And spread your hands apart!"

Zoey fixed it and looked to the Gryffindor for acknowledgement, grinning. Rose spent the next few minutes revising her flight habits and it wasn't until James returned to the pitch that they finally pulled in.

The oldest Potter was scowling. "Can't believe he did it again. He makes such a fool of himself every time."

"Don't tell me that." Lysander flipped a page. "Despite contrary accounts, we are not the same person."

Rose landed in the bleachers easily, giving James a hug to diffuse the tension. Zoey was having a bit more trouble, pulling up to the stands only to pull back at the last second. Lysander noted the witch was very good at last-second turns.

"Lorcan's just excited to show off, James. Remind you of anyone?" Lily commented in the light manner only a little sister could, and he relaxed and nodded, mumbling something about how he'd taught Lorcan all about flying in the first place. Lysander snorted.

"Got it!" Zoey cried as she pulled over the banister, but she braked to hard and started sending her broom into a backflip. "Um, maybe not."

She seemed to fall off in slow motion as she lost her grip on the upside-down broom to tumble twenty feet toward the ground, and the clan looked at her still form in absolute horror. When they saw her body convulse Hugo darted for the stairs, and everyone followed a few seconds later.

Rose was terrified, imagining all the horrible injuries Quidditch players could get from a fall and began thinking of a healing spell to keep Zoey stable until they got her to Mister Prin.

As they got closer they were surprised to hear a now-familiar laugher as the girl rolled on the floor, her broom hovering in place a few feet away. She kept laughing even when they circled her, with words punctuating between the chuckles "Oh my gosh… never done that before… did you see how high I got, that was so AMAZING!" she shouted and started kicking the air with excitement, starting a new round of giggles.

As they watched in amazement, James focused on her head. "What color is that?" He pointed to her hair.

"Her hair changes colors two or three times a day," Lysander murmured. "This is her third time with blue."

His eyes narrowed. "I've seen that color before…"

After they watched the girl continue her laughing fit for a while Lily eventually asked, with a trace of worry, "Do you think we broke her?" And Rose could only shake her head and stare. It was like watching a spell backfire; she just couldn't look away.

Zoey eventually exhausted herself to lay spread eagle on the ground, obviously uninjured as she innocently looked up at them all. "Anyone else craving chocolate? That smoke made me hungry."

* * *

Jonovan Orion pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep himself awake, lost in the sea of papers. Whatever had possessed him to pass flyers out to every student in Hogwarts he had no idea, but that demonic inspiration was now about to keep him awake for the third night in a row.

Magical paperwork might be easier, but it wasn't any more fun. Jon had easily separated the stacks by grade and then by house with a bit of magic, but compiling their content could only be done the old fashioned way. Ergo, he had spent his weekend reading until he fell asleep at his desk, and was about to do so again.

A soft scratching at his window woke him up, and he opened it with a wave of his hand. Rasputin shook off the last of the water on his fur before climbing inside, rubbing his head against Jon's arm for attention. The young man sighed and relented, leaning back on his throne-like chair to rub the smooth quills of his pet.

It seemed to smile in the way only an animal could, and took off the pouch draped across it's back. "You got it?" Jon murmured as he reached into the enlarged bag, smiling when his finger was pricked on a small piece of silver. "Good boy, Raz." He leaned back to get the murtlap a special treat, a fresh starfish that was like candy to his unusual pet.

He rested his chin on his palm as he absently looked out the window for just a few minutes, giving himself a mental health break before diving back into his work.

Jon woke up the next morning to sunlight in his face and a blanket draped across his shoulders. As he sat up he realised someone must have cast a cushioning spell on the top of his deck, otherwise his neck would be terribly sore right now.

The wonderful smell of good old-fashioned coffee crossed his nose, and he turned to find a cauldron-shaped mug on his left with a note tied to it. He read Zoey's familiar cursive with a grin, sipping the brew slowly and trying not to think of their limited supply of the muggle brew, letting the caffeine work it's own magic.

Sunlight gleamed over the silver charm on his desk and Jon carefully pulled it away from the sleeping murtlap, making a mental note to send an owl to his contact at Gringotts. Rasputin snored and curled tighter into a spiked ball atop the papers strewn over his deck, and Jon grinned as he reflected that no one would dare try to move him.

Then the new Assistant did a double take at the papers and groaned. He still had so many left to finish reading, as well as categorizing and making further notes… Orion looked between the work and his mug, then downed the rest of the caffeine to go make another batch. He would arrange for more coffee grounds later; this was definitely a double-espresso kind of morning.

* * *

"It's levi-oh-sa. Not levi-osah," Lily quoted. "At least, that's what Uncle Ron always says. It makes Aunt Hermione laugh for some reason."

"Right." Zoey smiled a bit nervously, extending her wand toward the book and giving it a swish and flick "Wingardium Leviosa!" It shuddered a bit, but didn't lift off the distant table. Same as the last three times she'd tried to cast the spell.

Lily Potter gave a forced smile, and easily summoned it to their table with a swish of her wand. "You're just out of practice, that's all." The twelve-year-old said as it thumped heavily among their notes.

"Thanks." She answered, but didn't feel much better. Looking down at the list, she picked a different charm. Pointing her wand to the dead fireplace, she easily started it up.

Her partner beamed and checked it off the list before signing. "See! There, you showed me five out of nine. That's all we need."

Zoey glanced at the nine checks Lily had earned on her own list, and smiled a bit sadly. It was obvious the younger girl thought she'd be embarrassed to continue failing at the rest of the assignment. She was right, but it still stung. "Thanks for working with me Lily."

"Oh please." The youngest Potter waved her hand dismissively as she put away her supplies. "It was either this or console Hugo on his terrible tryout this morning."

It was tough not to laugh at the memory of the gangly boy fleeing in terror from the quaffle that had been passed to him, so laugh Zoey did. "Don't make him feel too bad, Lily. He tried."

"He'll be glad to hear it. He only tried out to impress you." Lily turned red and checked around, glad they were alone in their section of the library. "Do not tell him I said that. I was not supposed to say that."

Zoey laughed, pushing a strand of her orange hair behind her ear. "Don't worry; I already knew. Why do you think I made sure to watch him and the other Hufflepuffs?"

"Oh good. Wait, do you…?"

"Lily, Hugo may be a beanstalk but he's still eleven." Zoey rolled her eyes. "No, I do not like him back but yes, I do think he's a fun friend."

The short ginger girl smiled. It wasn't very often that she and Hugo got and kept a friend outside of the clan. "Cool. Want me to help you with your transfiguration essay?"

"Nah, I've done enough work for now." Zoey waved her hand and neglected to mention that though she was doing lower-level wandwork, her essays all covered fourth-year material. "I need to find a book to read to a door."

Lily looked confused, but shrugged away her curiosity as she left her friend to be. To her the 'who' was more important than their 'whys'. It was part of what made Lily a Hufflepuff.

Zoey packed her stuff and pulled out the name of the book Lysander had suggested to her. Wandering through the labyrinthian shelves of the library, she eventually stopped and looked up at the book titled Riddles and Conundrums: Are You Prepared to Meet a Sphinx?

It was only five rows up, but Zoey was so small she couldn't reach it even when she stood on the nearby stool. She frowned and looked at the book, then glanced around before pulling out her wand. She pointed it at the dusty old thing and softly murmured "Accio book."

It didn't budge. She tried again, speaking instead of whispering. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Nothing.

There was one more spell she could think of that might work. "Summarum."

Maybe a twitch.

"Accio riddle book." Perhaps just 'book' had been too generic in a library.

Nothing.

"WINGARDIUM! LEVIOSA!" this cry seemed to echo down the shelves with the strength she put behind her demand.

Still absolutely nothing happened. Zoey lifted the wand in her left hand in anger and barely stopped herself from slamming it into the bookshelf in front of her. She forced herself to lower it slowly with a relaxed grip, putting it carefully away into its velvet-lined box with tender motions.

She sighed and pressed the heel of her fist to to her forehead. Taking a rattling breath, the young witch firmly reminded herself It's just a stupid stick. It does not matter if it does not work for me. They're useless anyways, I don't need one.

A rebellious voice in her head whispered back But you still want one.

Sometimes- okay, a lot of the time- Zoey hated that little voice. It tended to get her in trouble. Speaking of trouble… The Malam rolled a lazy eye up at the troublesome book that had been ignoring her and silently crooked a finger at it, watching the old tome easily leave its place to gently land in her hand like a well-trained owl.

Zoethia Malam determinedly left the library with deft steps. She had Sphinx riddles to read for an eagle knocker.

* * *

 _Wow, my longest chapter yet, and that's saying something. (7,000+ words). Thank you for reading, I really hope you like it half as much as I love reading it!  
If you have the time please please, please-please-please leave a review? Tell me what's right, what you like, what you hate and I should therefore fix- I love constructive criticism! Happy Halloween!_

 _~E_


	12. Ch 12 You Don't Succeed

**Ch. 12- You Don't Succeed**

* * *

Albus Severus Potter was many things. He was a talented flier. He was exceedingly good at charms. He never broke a promise, he was the spitting image of his father, he was the only person of this generation with Weasly blood who didn't have the signature red hair… and as anyone would say, he rarely ever got upset. He always had a cheery smile and a kind word to say, and despite his visual similarity to his father Albus was most similar in that he had no desire to be famous at all. A lot of people thought that meant he should have gone to Hufflepuff with his little sister Lily.

They thought he was too meek to be a Gryffindor, but those people were wrong. Albus Potter did get mad, like anyone else. He just needed a very good reason; like James's abhorrent behavior over the summer and absolute refusal to apologize for what he had done to Scorpius. That was a very good reason.

Unfortunately, such good reasons only came very rarely and that meant Albus wasn't particularly good at understanding _how_ to act angry or when he should stop.

Albus felt a twinge of guilt at Rose's disappointment when he once more stopped talking the instant James came to the table, before he set his jaw. He was not going to be the one to break their stalemate; he had given in too many times in the past.

Silence had never really been his thing, though, so he got up and left the table.

He wandered to the library, deciding to look for the one member of the clan that never bothered to delve into anyone's emotional drama. He found Lysander at his usual corner in the back, and was shocked to find the introvert had company.

The girl next to him shimmering gold hair and was sitting over an essay, biting her lip with concentration. The extreme hair identified her as the only person in the castle to sport such a style.

"...Zoethia Malam?"

Her head jerked up in response and she met his gaze with eyes that were even greener than his own. She smiled at him and said casually "Actually, most people just call me Zoey."

Lysander grunted and turned a page in his book.

"Right, er, Zoey…" Albus scratched his head nervously, eventually saying "Good to see you again." He hadn't seen her at all, actually, which was a total surprise. He was used to classmates borderline-stalking him for autographs if he ever so much as said 'hi'.

"...'Again'?" She repeated and tilted her head while Lysander unsuccessfully hid his amused snicker. "We met before? I'm sorry, I'm pretty horrible with names. Or faces. Or putting them both together. I have enough trouble learning how to get anywhere without a guide, let alone remember who's who in a sea of hundreds of students. Unless I should remember you... oh no, are you the boy I ran over the other day? I am so sorry that was a total accident I swear, it's a terrible habit..."

Zeoy didn't just walk with her mouth, she talked with her entire body. Her head bobbed, her hands were in constant motion, her face never held an expression longer than a second, and Albus hadn't known it was possible to raise and lower shoulders between words. It looked exhausting.

Albus's own mouth fell open in shock from her first statement and stayed there as she continued talking, seemingly without any kind of filter between mind and mouth. Eventually he got the muscles to start working again and say "No, no I'm not the boy you ran over. I'm Albus Potter."

Zoey blinked a few times, her head still tilted as she asked "Sorry, am I supposed to know that name?"

Albus tried to look at Lysander for help, but didn't even get eye contact. He cleared his throat. "Um, son of Harry Potter." Still no response. "Harry James Potter, The Chosen One? Conqueror of Death? Boy Who Liv-"

"Oh!" Zelina snapped her fingers and pointed at him in the same motion. "I've heard of him before! The guy who survived being a boy!"

Lysander lost it, devolving into hooting laughter reminiscent of his twin but rarely ever made it past his own throat. Albus's lips twitched into a smile as he sat down, looking at the girl in amazement. "Something like that."

Zoey turned to Lysander with her own open grin. "What? What did I do this time?"

* * *

In a different section of the library, three Slytherin boys sat among old, thick tomes of research. They'd been there as soon as class let out, and were now sacrificing dinner time for a noseful of dust with every page they turned.

"We're getting nowhere."

Malfoy looked up at Zambini's growl of frustration and raised his own eyebrow. "We're reading, not racing."

"You know what I meant," He scowled and pushed his book of genealogy away from him, careful to keep his voice down in the library.

"Of course he did," Nott said as he took the book and picked up their notes where the other boy had left off. "He was just giving you the opportunity to find a decent excuse for yapping instead of working."

Malfoy was very pleased with the way Nott had chosen to phrase that, and decided it didn't need further embellishment.

"What are you, a Professor?" Zambini scowled, put-out that he was apparently facing a united front. "We haven't found anything at all."

"It's been _weeks_."

"And? What's your point, Nott?"

Malfoy's eyes went to the ceiling, desperately wanting to remind his colleague that people had been studying the history of magical lineages and their fluctuations for decades, but decided that Nott would probably explain it better.

"Zambini, this is going to take longer than a few weeks. People have been studying the fluctuations of magical lineages for centuries."

…apparently all he had needed to add, Scorpius mused with a small smile, was a personal appeal and then a bit of hyperbole.

"He didn't make it sound that way." Zambini accused and jerked a finger at Malfoy's silent figure.

"I didn't?" He flipped a page in his book slowly, both for effect and so he could continue reading _The Theory of Great Magic: A Pureblood's Guide_. "I seem to recall mentioning we'd still be doing this during winter holidays."

Nott scoffed and put his notes down with a sigh, also needing a break despite telling Zambini off for the same. "Malfoy, even you know this is going to take longer than three months."

"I never said this year's hols, did I? It could be next, or in sixth year." Dispassionate grey eyes looked up to smile at Zambini's frustration. It was always fun to watch.

This time he pulled at his hair and sat back in his seat, the fourteen-year-old throwing a tantrum like a little kid as he kicked his legs and unaware of how amusing the sight was. He eventually calmed down enough to say "We need to help Melissa."

"We are." Malfoy declared as the atmosphere at the table grew serious and heavy. He sighed and closed his book as well. "But this is enough for today; we get any more cross-eyed we'll be seeing double. Lets get dinner"

With a glee that resembled the end of detention, the three boys left the towers of research material where they sat. On their way out, they heard a burst of noise in the otherwise quiet library.

They turned to find a few of the Legacies at a table, laughing uproariously. Zoey Malam was shining with happiness- and her golden hair was shining a good deal as well- as Albus Potter sat next to her.

"See? I called it." Nott sighed and turned away. "All they way back at the ceremony I called it, didn't I?"

"Call what?" Scorpius asked mildly without taking his eyes off the new Ravenclaw Student.

He gestured a vague hand toward the scene. "Bosom buddies with the Legacies. Am I right or am I right?"

Scorpius Malfoy felt his brows draw together a touch, and didn't move. He missed the glance his friends shared behind his back before Zambini cleared his throat. "C'mon mate, what were you saying earlier? Stupid, shallow witches?"

His completely unrelated reference was silenced with a look from their blond leader, and the conversation was dropped. Scorpius looked over his shoulder one last time just to see even _James Potter_ looking at the scene as well.

Scorpius Malfoy left the library in a considerably worse mood.

* * *

Jonovan, standing before the tallest, most imposing building at the corner of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, formed an opinion. Goblins must have something to compensate for.

Gringotts Bank was, as it always had been, run by goblins. But it had become… modernized, after Second Wizarding War. They had implanted more security measures, though they had publicly claimed that 'Mister Potter's success was facilitated by their lowered security in the vaults of Death Eaters". Wizards were required to leave their wands at the entrance when visiting, the higher security vaults changed locations, and now they were escorted by two goblins at a time. Rumor was maximum security required patrons and goblins alike answer random security questions before entering.

All of which let anyone with half a brain know full well that the 'facilitated' break in had shaken the goblins from their century-long reputation and the goblins were desperate to reobtain it.

Jonovan was seeing a goblin, but he wasn't seeing one in the Wizarding Bank. Instead he pulled up his hood and wandered down Knockturn Alley, stepping with a confidence in his stride that dared anyone question why someone so young was in the dark alley with a horklump on his shoulder.

With the ease of not practice but capability, Jonovan found the small door tucked past Borgin and Burkes. He had to stoop his tall frame into the entrance, but once inside the room was like any other and the young man was able to stand straight.

A short, stout figure was sitting on a small chair perfectly sized for him. He had long fingers and equally long toes and he glared at the wizard that had just entered his abode. "You again?" Griphook the goblin said in a rather nasty tone.

"Me again." Jonovan nodded as Rasputin sniffed at a rather suspicious slice of cheese.

The goblin threw an empty firewhiskey bottle at the rat-like creature, his throat raspy. "Want something, eh? Damn wizards always want something."

Rasputin dodged the shards and his quills puffed out as he hissed at his attacker.

"Just a quick repair this time." Jonovan was quick to sooth both irritable creatures. "Another link, if you would."

Long fingers flexed in anticipation of the task. "For?"

"The usual." A bag of coins was placed on the table, as well as a bottle of vintage firewhiskey from the 1970s. "Plus a perk. I'd like some extras."

Griphoook took it with his perpetual scowl and checked the payment was increased accordingly, then waved Jonovan out of his abode. He wouldn't deal with a wizard's presence any longer than necessary.

* * *

Rose Weasley was having a mild panic attack.

Her skin was pale in a way that made her freckles pop, she was breathing through her mouth instead of her nose, and her hair was frizzing out more than usual. She even stumbled on nothing a few times she was so distracted, and the person walking by her side wasn't helping her nervous state.

Scorpius Malfoy was obviously finding his rival's state of disarray exceedingly entertaining. "What's the matter, Weasley? Never been called to the headmaster's office before?"

"Of- of course I have." Rose tried her best to slow her racing heart without success. "But never for being in trouble!"

He raised a blond eyebrow, speaking calmly as though explaining to a child. "May I remind you, the note only told us to leave class." And got them out of History of Magic, which was no longer nap time thanks to Assistant Orion but was just as annoying to Scorpius for different reasons.

"Yes! Me and you- when has that ever meant anything but trouble?"

He huffed a breath of air out of his nose and matched her presentation. "Fair point. But this is also you we're talking about- when had you ever been anything but adored by faculty?"

Was he calling her a teacher's pet? Rose glared at him, her mind thinking of the possible explanations for her life to take such a drastic turn. "Or- or maybe it was one of your Sneaker pals, trying to ruin my reputation."

She missed the way his eyes darkened from quicksilver to a brooding storm at her slander against his friends. "And why would I be here, if that were the case?"

"Damning evidence." She said securely, knowing that there was little other than Scorpius that had ever gotten her anywhere close to serving detention. "Is this all just a barb in at James?"

There was a bitter taste in his mouth as he turned away. "Guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

She scowled at him, her pale face finally regaining color as her Weasley temper reared its head. They were almost to the statue entrance to the Headmistress's office when she made a realization that stopped her in her tracks.

Scorpius stopped and half-turned to look at her, his face a cold mask of indifference that showed his impatience for the sole purpose of not having to voice it.

"Were you…" Rose's voice was soft and airy in the empty hallway, incredulous. "Were you… trying to comfort me?"

She had no clue what she would say if she was right. If he had been, and she'd responded by insulting his friends in such a cutting way…

"Don't flatter yourself, Thorn." Malfoy turned and resumed walking, not bothering to check if she was coming.

Rose Weasley bristled, deciding that someday she was going to follow her mother's footsteps and punch a Malfoy right in the face.

* * *

Three students sat before Headmistress McGonagall, and Scorpius wasn't sure what the other two were thinking but he, certainly, thought the old woman was finally going senile.

He cleared his throat, speaking before the others caught their wits. "Excuse me, Headmistress, but, I must have heard you wrong. I could have sworn you said 'the both of us'."

"You heard me right, Mister Malfoy. You and Miss Weasley both shall tutor Miss Malam." She nodded at each girl in turn, neither of whom had spoken.

Zoey, who had already been in the office when they'd arrived, had yet to look up from the ground. Rose, obviously, had been petrified by the idea of being in trouble, and now by the prospect of working together with Scorpius on, well, anything.

The Gryffindor soon gathered herself to ask "If I may, ma'am… why us?"

"The two of you are at the tops of your year, Miss Weasley, I would think the answer to be obvious."

"I know that but- what I meant is- the real issue here, is-"

"How do you expect us to work together?" Scorpius smoothly finished Rose's stuttering question.

The Headmistress barely narrowed her gaze, though her voice held unbridled authority in one word. "Flawlessly."

* * *

Half an hour later, after they'd been dismissed, Zoey finally said her first words. "I'm sorry." Her hands twisted the end of her brown hair- Jonovan had turned it orange this morning, but it had faded back to its natural brown color- as they stopped to face her.

Scorpius spoke first, in an emotionless voice that could easily be labeled bored. "For what?"

She gulped and looked out the window, fleetingly wondering at the team flying in the pitch. "For McGonagall forcing you into this."

'Force' wasn't quite the word Scorpius would have used. McGonagall knew that happy workers were more efficient than reluctant ones, and was rewarding them accordingly. The Weaslette was getting unrestricted access to the Restricted Section of the library, to help her tutor Zoey in all the theoretical subjects.

Scorpius, who would be helping Zoey learn all practical aspects of magic, would be allowed to request whatever equipment he deemed necessary and be allowed to use the room they trained in for himself as well. He considered it well worth an hour or two of his week.

Before he could say anything more Rose's temper snapped in the famous Weasley fashion. From her terror at potential detention to the anger at Malfoy's meanness to the mixed emotions of working with Scorpius for a year, the Weasley had a lot of negative emotions rolling through her and an easy target. "Then why are you so stupid?"

Zoey flinched as though struck, but lifted her chin. "I'm not. I'm just behind."

"You're in bloody beginners classes! How can you be doing worse than Hugo?" At the base of her frustrations was honest bewilderment; she'd seen Zoey's control with her own eyes and wondered how it could be possible for the girl to be so far behind the Headmistress herself stepped in to intervene.

"That's not a very nice thing to say about you brother." Zoey chided immediately, and winced when it sent the girl to another level of anger.

Rose's face turned a brighter red than her hair and she ranted loud enough that her voice echoed down the hall, telling her how valuable her time was and how she already had tests and now Quidditch practice to worry about, she didn't need to drag someone else's grades out of the mud. In a addition she didn't need Zoey being a role model as well as a bloody idiot and reminding her that it was none of her business to mess with my family and finishing with the accusation "-are you even trying, or do you want us to do the hard work for you?"

"What- no! I mean yes, of course I'm trying! But that's not enough- I know when I need help."

Rose's nose scrunched in disbelief. "This is entirely your fault that I have to work with- with him!" Her voice cracked with panic on the last word.

Scorpius mildly raised an eyebrow at the finger pointed at him, having wondered when they'd remember his presence. Yet his anger cracked like a whip at the fact Rose was distasteful of working with him, Scorpius Malfoy, and set her straight. "I'm not exactly thrilled about tutoring her either, Thorn."

At his words the last of Zoey's protests died down and her shoulders drooped, though her newly-assigned tutors were too busy glaring at eachother to properly notice. She set her jaw and looked up, her gaze and face a mask of seriousness that neither had seen her wear before. And still, neither saw it because they were too engrossed in the other. "Like it or not, I will be learning from you two. If that's too tough to manage, find someone who can do your job better than you. Otherwise, I'll see you on Friday."

With a strong stride and without a backwards glance at the rivals engaged in a staring contest, she left.

* * *

Any decent gossip will tell that there different kinds of rumors. There was talk about what people feared, like a pop quiz in Astromony on Tuesday. Or what people hoped, like Binns finally getting fired next summer and Assistant Orion taking his position. And of course there were the fun romances, the 'she-likes-him-but-he-likes-a-different-her's, the couples gossip about break-ups and get togethers and the ever scandalous speculations on if anyone was shagging yet.

In addition to those there was the general topics of news and events- like the strange Sorting Ceremony, though that was old news. Though that was nothing to worry about, as there was always plenty of new news to find.

Cristine Creevy was more than a good gossip- she was the secret publisher of School Scandals, an editorial piece, and she never missed a scoop. A whisper of a story in her rumor mills and she would be off to the scene of the crime with her camera, catching cheating boys and girls in the act.

She was making such a run now, though this was an-old-but-back-again kind of story. Filtch had bragged about finally banishing Peeves at the Faculty Table during breakfast, and though she wasn't particularly hopeful that it would become any more than a side anecdote to whatever her main article became, Cristine figured that was still worth a look.

It turned out to be well worth it- she arrived to find the old Caretaker hanging from a torch, flailing around. "Peeves! I'll get the Baron! Mark my words, you'll leave Hogwarts if it's the last thing I do!" Filtch cried as he swung his broom like a bat at Peeves like a drunk trying to hit a piniata from the wrong side of the room. Mrs. Norris was yowling and jumping as best as her old limbs would allow, but could reach neither her owner nor the culprit that had put him there.

The blue poltergeist just cackled and pelted him with walking sticks. "Too late, too late! Tried and failed, gone and done- now he's free to have his fun!"

Christine stifled her amusement as she snapped a few photos from the safety of the crowd that had gathered, anonymous in the numbers. News smooz, this picture alone would circulate with how universally disliked the old man was.

There was a change in the tone of conversations around her, and everyone looked in shock to watch someone actually approach the scene. It was a Ravenclaw, and based on height likely a second or third year.

Whoever it was was wearing the hood of their robe up as she walked, completely unaware of her surrounding until Filtch's broom slipped from his grasp and landed at her feet.

Peeves whirled and was about to attack this new target too but, to the gasped surprise of the audience, stopped his assault before it even started. "Itle-wittlle baby-bwue?" He asked in a voice none had heard before, though to be fair none had heard Peeves do anything except taunt or insult.

"Oh, hi Peeves. What are you up to?"

The centuries-old poltergeist hid the walking sticks behind his back and, in the manner of a toddler caught doing something he knew was wrong, mumbled "Nothins."

"I see. Hope that's not too boring for you." The girl caught sight of the upset cat that was still trying to jump up to her owner. She looked up, revealing a lock of brown hair, and blinked. "Oh my god- how did you get up there?"

Filtch's face was still red and splotched from his anger, but he though he opened and closed his mouth a few times nothing came out. It seemed that the angle of his clothes was now choking him in addition to holding him off the ground.

"He really seems like he's in trouble, doesn't he?" Zoey picked up the hated, spiteful Mrs. Norris as though the latter were an agreeable kitten. "Peeves, do you think you can help him? He's too high for me to reach."

Filtch's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets, and he struggled some more as Peeves approached, but the poltergeist meekly picked him up to set him on the ground. The girl returned the grateful cat to her owner, tapping her pink nose. "Take better care of him next time, kay?"

Mrs. Norris mewed happily and rubbed into her hand.

The girl looked up at the caretaker in an obviously expectant way, and when the man said nothing else she folded her arms. "You know, it's considerably rude not to say 'thank you' when someone does you a favor."

Filtch's face bulged and twisted some more, but he said no such thing.

Eventually the girl in question scoffed- scoffed at Caretaker Filtch- and resumed her walk out of the hallway, though now she had a companion.

"Baby-bwue do what?"

"I'm exploring, Peeves. Do you want to join me?"

In answer the poltergeist cackled and flipped over in the air, dropping the walking sticks all over the hallway.

"Wonderful. You're going to pick that up first, right?" The girl stopped and looked up at Peeves, who again acted in the manner of a chided child and quickly gathered each one, stuffing them out of sight with magic.

"Thanks Peeves." There was a smile in her voice and she walked some more. "And I'm sorry he didn't thank you too- it really is considerably rude of him."

The odd pair turned the corner, and there was resounding silence for a few minutes. Then there was one person who dared whisper, then two, and soon everyone was speaking in hushed whispers more suited to a funeral procession than a hallway.

Cristine cursed as she realized she'd forgotten to snap a single photo of the unknown girl or her actions, and raised it once more just as a soft thump went through the hallway. Somebody shouted:

"Someone get the Healer- Filtch feinted!"

* * *

 _Sorry it's been a while! I do have ful intent to continue this story, just be patient as life takes me to different ! As always, read & review if you can take a minute!_

 _~E_


	13. Ch 13 Try Try Again

**Ch. 13- Try Try Again**

* * *

Mornings. If there was one thing in the world Scorpius Malfoy felt was worthy of despising, it was mornings.

Specifically, waking up in them- and the confernal contraptions that made him do so. He groaned and fumbled for his alarm clock, once again tempted to hit snooze before he remembered that he now had the kind that sprayed water. He hesitated, then dropped his hand on the button anyways because he needed the splash if he could hope to be awake.

Thirty seconds later, drenched and now in his own personal pond, Scorpius was still debating if this was worth it. He ran a hand through his now-wet hair and sighed, reminding himself Malfoys keep their words as he pushed up from the soggy mattress and hunted down shoes.

After he had those, he went looking for his quidditch cleats, practice jersey and broom, not caring to keep quiet because he'd learned from three years of experience that his roommates could sleep through anything. Bangs, thuds, crashes, and swear words included.

Picking his way carefully through the mess of clothes on the floor, Scorpius winced when he felt something crunch underfoot. Oh he hoped that was just an escaped ice-mice and not a bug. He firmed his resolve to try and encourage _some_ level of sanitation from his living compatriots.

Once he was out of the door it was easy to get out of the Commons and navigate the dark dungeons, climbing up the many stairs it took to get to the normal levels of Hogwarts. He wasn't sure where the other House Commons were in Hogwarts Castle, but there was no place as out of the way and hard to navigate as their dungeons. It wasn't fair.

There were a number of differences between the Houses- not just in how they were treated but in how they were run. Scorpius was certain no other House had a 'by-invite-only' policy to join tryouts. It was ridiculous.

The stars were still out when he made it to the Main Gate. Scorpius didn't bother to look up at them as he sat down and swapped his shoes for the cleats, hesitating before pulling on the practice jersey.

It was ratty and old- more the color of underwatered grass than a proud emerald green, and the only reason the Team had given it to him was because they would have thrown it out otherwise. And still, Scorpius remembered just how happy he had been about it- little Second Year, ecstatic that he was making progress with joining Slytherin Team.

Now here he was, Fourth Year, and still was little more than a glorified ball-chaser for the team. No, he admitted as he mounted his broom, he wasn't even 'glorified'. He just chased their stray shots and- Scorpius wasn't quite sure how he'd been roped into this- did laundry on occasions.

He arrived at the pitch before any other team and did a few laps to warm up, honestly pretty asleep through their practice. But even in this drowsy state Scorpius Malfoy was still more agile and balanced on his broom than some of the hulking idiots that dominated the field.

The exception being Odetta- fifth year, one of Pricilla's classmates. Though she had only made the team by betting sixty galleons against her membership she could beat any of them in a race, she was still the most skilled player. And, for this new school year, the new captain.

It was painful to watch her try to teach the chasers to actually use a strategy when approaching the hoops. They seemed incapable of grasping the concept.

Scorpius looked away and lifted a forefinger to his temple, certain that he felt a migraine coming.

"Idiots." Odetta murmured as she flew up next to him, checking her watch and finding that most of their morning practice time was already gone. "They have no concept of speed."

She was obviously talking to herself, and he wasn't about to argue with that point, so Scorpius Malfoy didn't say anything.

"Hey, um… Malfoy. I need to talk to you about something." She looked as unsure about what she was saying as he was about what he was hearing. They'd never spoken before.

After an awkward stretch Scorpius realized she was waiting for a response and nodded for her to continue.

"So, I've been with on our Team for a while and, um… you've been around just as long, and… I know you've wanted to be on the team for a while, but Charles never invited you to join the team…"

She was stalling. Trying to pin the discrimination against him on someone else. He narrowed his eyes to let her know it wasn't working, and that if this was her attempt at getting cosy it wasn't going to work.

"And- and I never agreed with that," she blustered, even though she had done nothing to stop it. "But, you know, he's not captain anymore- because he graduated- so we… well, I, was planning to… thinking about…"

A Quidditch Captain really should be more confident in themself. No wonder she couldn't convince the Chasers to try any of her strategies- this was almost amusing. Scorpius would be smiling if he wasn't worried that he was being kicked off the team, tentative as his position was.

"...putting you on the Team."

He blinked a few times. "What?"

"I mean…" she fumbled, "You _want_ to be on the team, right?"

"Yes."

"Well… okay." she smiled. "I'll get you a reserve jersey."

Reserve? Scorpius frowned. Slytherin already had a full set of reserves. And he was a better flyer than any of the other clowns on the field, the captain should place him straight onto the team. Unless…

"You're gonna train with the Chasers." Odetta told him, and it all but confirmed his suspicion.

She wasn't putting him on the team- she was just absolving her own guilt for not standing up to him sooner. And doing it by putting him so low in the pecking order that there was virtually no difference other than a name change. He'd never get any playing time unless half a dozen people went out first.

Scorpius Malfoy found himself tempted to push her for a better deal, to call her on what she was doing and show Odetta that he was as good if not better than any of her Team- maybe even race her to get her position. He hated pushovers like her- if she was going to discriminate, she could at least be consistent, stick to her morals, instead of selfishly absolving her own guilt by passing it off as kindness.

Instead he remembered Father's reminders to be the better man and Mother's observation that it was a waste to hate things that never change or go away. So Scorpius Malfoy nodded and said "I'll take it after practice, then."

He spent the rest of the morning reminding himself this was progress, and that it should make him feel better.

* * *

A normal person should dislike magical plants after what Zoethia Malam had experienced because of one. But, Zoey was most certainly proud to state, she was not a normal person. She was still fascinated to learn more.

Out of all the testing that she'd suffered before transferring, Zoey was most disappointed that she'd scored low in herbology. As with all of her other low classes, it was her lack of practical experience that held her back, something that was very aggravating. After spending an entire summer reading books, she was still evaluated at much lower than she should have been.

Honestly, she blamed the wands.

Zoey kicked at a pebble on the winding path down to the greenhouses. She was thirteen years old- fourteen at the start of November, hence her year- and her whole life the stupid sticks had always hated her.

Jon frequently chastised her for the notion, seeing as he didn't believe wands were sentient or even 'semi'-sentient, but Zoey was more open minded to the natures of magic.

For three, almost four years now the British Ministry of Magic itself had been trying to find her a wand, sending her from expert to expert with borderline disastrous results. Every wand she flicked, swished, waved or flung released some sort of explosion. Set something on fire. Knocked over shelves. Flooded the room. Shrank Ollivander's glasses.

Zoethia smiled a bit; okay, that one had been funny. The pine wand had made his glasses three inches small and perch on the end of his nose like a cartooned librarian. Gerald Ollivander had been unable to reverse it and been forced to not only help her, but keep them on until they had tried every wand he had in storage. Even he, who learned from his father Garrik, 'best wandmaker that had ever been', claimed that there was no explanation and therefore, no point to them returning to him until he made a fresh batch of wands.

Only one wand had ever worked for her and it had been her mother's. The nine-inch hazel wand had a dragonstring core, and was the only wand that even remotely accepted her. Even then it was a struggle to convince the mule-headed stick to do what she wanted, and she strongly suspected the only reason it did was because of its strong bond to her Mom, who hadn't touched it in years.

Zoey continued to kick the pebble until it hit the door to the herbology professor's office, then she sighed and straightened up. She opened the door and felt a smile forming, hoping Mister Longbottom would listen to her request.

"Please Professor!" Someone was begging, and Zoey found another person already talking to their teacher. "Please I swear I'll work hard!"

"Miss Goyle I'm sorry," Longbottom sighed as he faced his eager pupil. "But with your performance I can't trust you to be in here unsupervised. I'm sorry, you'll have to raise your grades another way."

The student looked crestfallen as she sat back in the chair across from his desk. The girl looked about Zoey's age, and had her black hair pulled away from her face by a green Slytherin headband. Her skin was white not in a pasty way, but more a lack of freckles, and the otherwise attractive girl was a bit too pudgy to be called pretty. Cute by some, maybe, but not pretty.

Zoey coughed, not wanting to get caught spying. "Mist- Professor Longbottom?"

The tall man looked to his door and finally noticed the other student awaiting his attention. "Yes, Miss Malam?" He hoped it would be quick, he had an urgent letter to get back to.

"Actually, I, well, I was hoping for an extra credit opportunity as well. Hands-on, if possible." Her face was flushed, embarrassed to be asking for one in front of someone that had just been turned down. But she needed it if she wanted to pass the reevaluation after Christmas and join the rest of her grade.

The herbology professor seemed to be thinking the same thing as he glanced at the other girl, clearing his throat. "I'm afraid I can't allow students of your skill to be in my greenhouses alone, Miss Malam."

Melissa Goyle passed a Slytherin-gaze over Zoey, then asked "Professor, what if we worked together?"

Zoey caught on quickly. "You did just say the only reason you were hesitating, sir, was because you worried about us being on our own."

Professor Longbottom looked between the two of them, then eventually said "I will consider it." and dismissed them both from his office.

Melissa and Zoey were left blinking at eachother outside his door, surprised by his abruptness.

The Slytherin recovered first and turned to Zoey with a sneer. "If you mess this up for me, transfer, you'll regret it."

"Of course I would. After all, I'd be messing myself up in the process."

Melissa blinked as the words resonated in a Slytherin-mindset, and for a moment she wondered if it had been intentional. "Right, well… I'm Melissa Goyle. Pureblood, of course."

"Zoey Malam," She smiled and spun around, asking as they left "So what is extra-credit like, anyways? What plants will we look after? Do we need gloves- I've got a dragonhide set on it's way, but it hasn't arrived yet. Why do they use dragonhide, anyways? Surely that's a very dangerous way to make a garden accessory. Unless they use shedded skin- do dragons shed? They are reptiles, right?"

Melissa rolled her eyes as she settled in for the long walk back to the castle; Scorpius was right about this girl. Zoey was going to drive her mad by the time they left the greenhouses.

* * *

Zambini, with the usual ease, had secured a table in the Slytherin Common room to study on. Malfoy and Nott had dispersed to once again scour old tomes in the library as soon as they finished their essays, but Priscilla had her own homework and he… was having trouble with his own essay.

"Hey Pris, do you remem-"

"Don't call me that."

"-ber the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" He blinked in mild shock at how quickly she'd said those four words, then shrugged it off. "Do you?"

"Yes." She intoned, but obviously had no intention to share. Priscilla was a big believer in learning things yourself.

Grumbling to himself, he was about to pull out another book when the stone door to the common room opened to admit a pair of first years. One was a girl with blond hair and a light complexion, born a natural beauty. The other was a slightly pudgy boy with his robes pulled up to his elbows and covered in ink smudges. They didn't look like a pair that'd get along.

The girl saw him and grinned, waving, before she and the boy tried to sit at another table.

"I will never understand," Priscilla said with a trace of humor, "how someone with your nose could be that cute."

Zamini pretended to be offended as he watched his little sister with some nerves in his stomach. "Oi, our family nose is very distinguished."

For a moment it seemed that her and her friend would be welcomed at the table. Those other first years were smiling, at least- until one of the Quidditch Reserves sat on one of the empty chairs and set his feet on the cushion of the other. Then the table clammed up and motioned for them to go elsewhere.

Zambini could practically hear Priscilla's mental list of 'People to DESTROY' gain a new member, though her only reaction was a light blink and a slight narrowing of her gaze as she watched. She wasn't going to walk up and say anything, though- that wasn't the Slytherin way. Snakes struck best when they were least expected.

It was much more their manner to smile politely and greet his rejected sister as though she had not just been given a cold shoulder. "Marianngela," Priscilla greeted with a warm smile, "Who's your friend?"

"Avery." The boy piped up, holding out his ink-stained hand. "I'm an Avery."

Zambini and Priscilla shared a knowing look before welcoming him to their table as well. The Avery's were another True Pureblood lineage from the Sacred 28 Families- and he too had ex-Death Eaters in his Family Tree. Suddenly his friendship with Marianngela made a lot more sense.

"We've got a lot of homework from Defense Against the Dark Arts. Can we work here?"

"Of course, sis." Zambini pushed a seat back for her. "Need any help?"

"No," Marianngela Zambini shook her head as she pulled out her homework while Avery pulled out a sketchbook, getting more ink on his hands as he drew. "Zoey gave us her notes."

"Zoey?" He asked in surprise, "Do you mean the Transfer?"

"Yeah, she's in our class." Avery added in, "Gets along real well with Professor Sybble though. It's great; she always gets him to veer off on tangents."

"A first-year class?" Zambini asked in shock.

Marianngela nodded. "Not her only lower-level class. She's got no natural talent at all."

"She told me she grew up with muggles," Avery pipped up, looking up from his sketchbook. "Has no experience with the world of magic."

Zambini looked at Priscilla to see what the other girl thought of this.

Their oldest friend was showing a rare expression on her face: total shock. Priscilla was lost in her thoughts, remembering the snippets of Zoey's mind that the Sorting Hat revealed to her and the other House Representatives. A lot of it had become blurry as time went on- she suspected that was part of the enchantment that had allowed them to see her memories in the first place- but Priscilla Parkinson was certain of one thing- Zoey Malam was not new to the world of magic.

Her gaze narrowed a touch as she considered the situation. As a Ravenclaw of wit and learning, most students were bound to take the transfer's words at face-value. But Priscilla knew exactly how strongly the Hat had debated putting the girl in Slytherin and had to wonder… Was Zoey cunning enough to fake incapability?

* * *

" _Ronald_ ," Hermione Weasley sighed in her best honey-you-know-I-love-you-but-you-are-being- ridiculous-right-now voice, "Hogwarts is a school, not a public library. You can't invite yourself along just because your best friend is visiting."

"And my wife," Ron added to that list, having learned a bit about how to argue in their many years of marriage, "And my kids. I do pay for Rose and Hugo to go to that school, after all."

Hermione looked at him meaningfully. "You pay?"

" _We_ pay for our kids to go to school, honey." he corrected with a tone of defeat. He slumped on their couch with a groan, then groaned again at how uncomfortable it was. "Really Hermione, did you have to ruin the cushions when you made our couch Hagrid-proof?"

Hermione adopted a tone of defense. "Well I didn't exactly have much help, now did I?"

"As I remember, you wanted no help because I was 'absolutely useless'!" Ron quoted with a trace of bitterness, running his hands down his face.

"And whose fault is that, Ronald?"

"Mine, of course!" He threw up his hands in frustration. "Blimey, ain't it always?"

Hermione turned so he wouldn't see her lip quiver. "Of course- because I'm too critical and a mean old witch."

"Mione-" Ron sighed and got up from the uncomfortable seat, pulling her to him in a hug. He rested his chin on her head and patted her curls- he'd long ago learned that to run his fingers through his wife's hair was comparable to a chinese finger trap. "Mione I'm sorry. This wasn't what I wanted to happen on my day off from training."

She returned his embrace after a moment. "This is why I worried about you re-training as an Auror," she admitted in a soft voice. Ron's decision to retire from a Ministry position hadn't just saved his brother George in his shop- it had probably been what saved their marriage all those years ago. Between her stress working in Wizengamot and his frequent visits home or Mungo's with injuries, their fighting had become unbearable.

"You know I had to," he reminded her just at gently, kissing the top of her head. "I want to keep you safe."

"That's sweet, Ronald." She looked up at him and felt obliged to point out "However, we've no idea if combative spells will even work against it! Or what 'it' even is!"

"It's more likely than a patronus," Ron pointed out, pecking her nose with a quick kiss. "But you and Harry are still going to instruct that special class, aren't you?"

Hermione rubbed the tip of her nose with a touch of a blush. "We'll, it can't hurt. And there really are a lot of dementors escaping from Azkaban, Ronald, so it's a circumspection."

"Hermione, in English- please."

"Sagacity," she told him, smiling lightly. "Disconcernment. Fabian policy. Preemptive-"

"Now that word, I know." Ron held up a triumphant finger.

"-measures," Hermione finished and shook her head lightly. "Really, Ronald, how many times have I told you to expand your vocabulary?"

"What do I need words for? I got myself a private lawyer."

She rolled her eyes at the old joke and limited herself to single-syllable words with a pause in between. "It, is, a, good, spell, for, them, to, know,- regardless."

Ron knew exactly what she'd attempted and chuckled. "You just couldn't do it, could you?"

"Oh hush Ronald. We're having a conversation here."

"Really? We weren't comparing brain size?"

" _Ron_."

"Right, right- and bollocks. You're going to check on Hugo and Rose, and precious little else."

"I am not!" Hermione said indignantly.

"So you're not going to go out of your way to check on Hugo, even though you're only going to be teaching Rosie's class?"

"What- well- so what if I do? Any mother would, wouldn't they?" She defended, folding her arms over her chest. "I mean, with an unknown something going about for the past nine years that none of the Ministries have been able to figure out, what else should I do?"

Ron smiled and tapped his fingers on her waist. "Take me with you?"

"Ronald…" she sighed once again, "Think about it for a moment."

"About what?" He asked, blinking in confusion.

"The 'Big Three'?" Hermione used the term for her, her husband and Harry Potter mockingly. "Back at our old school? At the same time…?"

He sighed as he finally caught on. "In fly the jackals, eh?"

"Reporters." Hermione corrected, but not without her own exasperation. "They'd line us up for portraits all day long and interrupt the class and the students wouldn't learn _anything_." She sounded most upset about the last point.

"Not to mention, you'd lose a chance to check on the kids and nieces and nephews."

"Right. It's all about priorities." Hermione nodded, glad that they were working from the same page. She missed his smile as she went to the kitchen to finish cooking their dinner.

"And?" Ron asked with a smile, "Have you learned anything new?"

"No. Kingsley hasn't shared anything else." She set the plates down. "I think it's because they haven't learned much. Sounds to me like the only person who made any progress was Zelina Avery."

He had almost succeeded in stealing a bite of dinner, but the name made him pause. "Who? Ow!"

Hermione pulled back the ladle she had just used to smack her husband's thieving knuckles. "Zelina Avery- Patient Seven. She was the first person to posit that there may even be a problem at all."

Ron rubbed his bearded chin in contemplation. "That name sounds familiar to me. Not a new familiar, mind, more like… an old familiar. Know what I mean?"

"Not at all."

"Imagine that," He laughed at himself lightly. "Did we know her at Hogwarts?"

"There were a lot of Avery's during the Second War. You're probably thinking of them right now."

He grimaced as he did recall. There'd been at least three Averys under Death Eater robes, in full, open support of Voldemort. Ron still wasn't sure about it though as he reached for another bite, only to have his hand smacked away again. "Did we know this Zelina girl in class?"

"No." Hermione said with absolute certainty, then stopped thoughtfully. "Then again, that doesn't mean she wasn't there at the same time. Why?"

"Just a feeling- I'm pretty certain I'd heard her name before. Her first name, I mean."

"Is that important?"

"Is it not?" Ron pointed out, and pulled his hand back from the tray as his wife held up the ladle warningly once again.

Hermione lowered the ladle lightly, then shrugged as she finally gave Ron his food for him to eat _properly_ with a fork and knife. "I'm mention it to Kingsley."

* * *

"James," Rose Weasley sighed in her best I'm-being-reasonable-but-my-patience-is-wearing-thin voice, a worthy impression of her mother, "You have got to stop believing every rumor you hear. There's no way a teacher could be hexed by a student. At least not without someone noticing."

"It's been done before. Remember Crouch Jr. in our parents' 4th Year?" her cousin reminded her, "And someone did notice, dummy- how else would the word have gotten out."

"That sort of things doesn't happen in Hogwarts anymore, James." She chided as she tucked a red curl of hair behind her ear, upset that this silly conversation couldn't have waited until after she'd finished studying in the library. "The biggest 'news' Colleen ever finds is about relationship drama and you know it."

"Aha," James held up a finger, "That's only because she hasn't found proof that Zoey is going to Orion's office after curfew practically every night."

"She what?" Rose asked in surprise, then shook her head. "No- no, stop it James! Don't say that kind of thing if you don't know it's true."

"But I do!" James assured. "Anyhow- Locran heard from Dominique who was told by Hugo who overheard Goyle and Creevy discussing Zoey's frequent nightly visits to Orion's staff office. So how do you explain that? Or the way they constantly smile at each other in the hallways? Or the-"

"Okay, so they're more friendly than usual... But look at Uncle Nevi- Professor Longbottom! He's that friendly with all his students."

"I'm not talking about Uncle Neville! And," James pointed out like this damning evidence, "He calls her by her first name!"

"He calls everyone by their first name; he's probably more friendly because he's younger than the other Professors, and just an Assistant to boot." Rose plowed through his protest, feeling obliged to point out "And I always greet Professors in the Hallways. That does not mean I am secretly hexing teachers or doing something surreptitious."

James's face scrunched so much it moved his round glasses. "Something what?"

"Surreptitious: underhanded, deceitful, unscrupulous…" The Weasley saw his continuing confusion and sighed at his piteous vocabulary. "Sneaky?"

"Ah." James looked down the hall, then leaned closer. "Okay then- why do _you_ think someone would sneak into a teacher's office after hours?"

"Remedial lessons? Extra credit? Pet sitting? I don't know!" Rose stopped to shift the armful of books she'd taken with her from the library. "For all we know Zoey's just getting some tips from Professor Orion- he's a brilliant wizard." He had adapted a number of muggle contraptions into History of Magic, managing to make the class much more interesting. In addition to the projector he'd enchanted an interactive history map that would talk and demonstrate important scenes of the past to any student that asked. He said he'd based the layout on various comtutor games he'd played.

"Or she could be walking toward the Astronomy Tower where Orion was alone for hours." James suggested.

"An oddly specific idea..." Rose had a sinking feeling as she looked up to find James' nose buried in an old piece of parchment. "Bloody hell James, you didn't-"

"Use the Maurader's Map to find out what Zoey is up to? Yes- yes I did." He smiled at his own ingenuity.

"James Sirius Potter, that is an _incredibly_ rude invasion of privacy!" Rose hissed, looking down the empty hall with gratitude. The Map was one of Uncle Harry's few remaining secrets about how he'd won the Second War. She peeked over his shoulder, telling herself that it was to see if there was anyone nearby that might catch them. "Why is a History Assistant in the Astronomy Tower?"

James cocked an eyebrow, "Now who's prying?" he chastised, but he knew he'd caught her elusive curiosity and took advantage of it. "Not yet- bloody hell," he cut himself off in shock, only have Rose tisk disapprovingly.

"Language!" She chastised, but when she saw the name that accompanied another pair of feet atop the Astornomy Tower she was taken aback as well. "Woah…"

The cousins stared at the parchment for a few long moments, then looked at each other. "What-" Rose coughed around her dry throat, pointing to the curling label that read _'Kingsley Shacklebolt'_ , "-what is Orion doing with the Minister of Magic?"

* * *

 _Read & Reaview!_

 _-E_


	14. Ch 14 Connections

**Ch 14- Connections**

* * *

Jonovan Orion was flying in a personal, miniature whirlwind as they returned to Hogwarts, landing atop the Astronomy Tower midday with the protection of a cloaking spell. His eyes were black and his hands curved into claws, as though he and not his pet were the one that had a tendency to shred aggressors.

"Orion." Kingsley Shacklebolt called out but the young man paid the Minister of Magic no mind, so he was forced to step in front of the stairs for his attention. " _Orion._ "

Jonovan stopped- barely- looming over the man by his very presence. He was not an angry person by nature; wielding his temper in this manner, as though it were a weapon against any who dared cross his path, was nigh unheard of.

"You can't return to Hogwarts like this." Kingsley told him firmly, and for a few heartbeats Jon thought he was referring to his emotional mindset.

Then Jon remembered he'd altered his appearance for their outing and fixed it, changing his hair from a waxy black back to its normal brown-blond. He removed the sharp angles of his face and the facial hair he'd morphed his features into for their trip, all without taking his eyes from Kingsley's.

The metamorphmagi now looked less like a cartoon villain, but only a fool would be any less weary of his anger. "Nine years." He accused the Minister. "You people have had _nine years,_ and _that_ is the best you've come up with?" Jon scoffed, tempted to laugh at the ineptitude of the 'research' team but holding it back out of respect for the man in front of him. It was not the Minister's fault that wizards had so much trouble with deductive reasoning.

"Four." Shacklebolt corrected, "We've only known as long as you have, Orion. That's only four years."

"Oh is that all?" Jon said sarcastically, clenching his hands into a fist. "You know that means you people spent five years not even considering this a concern, right? Not even _aware_ of it. It took two kids nearly dying for them to get off their arses and realize there was a problem."

Kingsley wasn't sure how to respond to that. He was saved his answer, though, as Zoey showed up- as always, somehow arriving exactly when she was most useful.

"They know now." The short girl said as she walked up to Jon, taking his hand. "And we're going to make sure they stay on track."

Jonovan looked down at her in mild surprise at her timing, then nodded and patted her on the head. Rasputin scampered down his arm to perch on the shoulder of the less-angry of his two masters. The literal storm around him calmed even as he watched her hair turn a crimson red under his touch.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at the implication that these kids could do better than he, but as he looked at them together he decided not to be too upset.

Zoey turned her smile on the Minister, "Rex, do you mind giving us a moment?"

And now he was being dismissed. Kingsley folded his arms. "Do you mind using my real name?"

"No. But actually using a Latin word every now and then makes me feel like I didn't waste my school life." She had a perfectly innocent smile, but Kingsley knew her well enough to know she wouldn't ask for privacy unless she felt they needed it.

Jonovan knew that as well and sighed in a bit of a defeated way, fairly certain of what he'd done wrong _this_ time. "Thanks for the update, Minister." Even if it had been horribly disappointing.

"You two are aware that as the Minister of Magic, it is _my_ prerogative to decide when my presence is no longer needed?" Kingsley Shacklebolt said in a voice of authority that had cowed criminals and commanded Aurors… and both of them looked at him like they had no idea what he was talking about.

 _Kids._ He sighed and turned to go to the Headmaster's office before returning to the Ministry. No respect for their elders.

When he was gone Zoey took her hand from Jon's and set it on her hip, glaring at him. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" He asked mildly, straightening his robes as though he actually cared about his appearance as he sauntered down the tower stairs.

"You know very well 'what'," Zoey called him out as she followed, but said it anyways as she was that angry. "You _made_ McGonagall give me tutors!"

"Zoey," he said in a mildly chiding voice, "I have no authority whatsoever over her decisions. And a student really should call her 'Headmistress', don't you think?"

"You- gah!" She threw her hands in the air and turned away from him, then finished the circle to face him again.

"Words Zoey." He smiled, obviously enjoying her temper.

The Malam growled under her breath but complied. "I'm supposed to fit in! Be 'under the radar'! How is getting tutored before the first rounds of testing fitting in? What did Rex have to say about it, huh?"

"No worse than the way you are only taking _two_ classes at your grade level." Jon pointed out ruthlessly, folding his own arms. "And if you'd come to school as a Third Year like he, and _everyone else_ suggested, you wouldn't need tutoring."

"But-" Zoey blushed and floundered for a moment, "But I'm turning fourteen in November! This _is_ my grade! And Potions! I-"

"You tested at O.W.L. capability for that class, yes yes I know." Jon sighed, remembering how ecstatic she'd been about that only to find out that Headmistress McGonagall refused to let her take classes above her official grade level. "But that's not worth ruining the rest of your intellect!"

"Ruin-" She floundered again, her own magic rising in response to his insult- Rose's harsh comments and Malfoy's brief, but no less harsh, complaint echoing in her head. "Jonovan Malam Orion I am not an _idiot_!" As she screamed the last word her magic sent every loose piece of debris flying away from her in a silent explosion, dust and webs tearing free as Jon was forced to catch the banister so he wouldn't topple down the stairs.

The silence echoed for a moment, then he turned up at her and _finally_ became serious about the conversation. "Zoethia Malam I am just looking out for you."

She inhaled sharply, another scream of frustration preparing to explode from her, but as she looked into Jon's face it caught in her throat. His jaw was clenched, his gaze was piercing, but his eyes were the same warm and welcoming brown that they always were, full of compassion. She released the captured breath with a sigh of defeat, looking away.

It wasn't like Zoey didn't actually need the tutoring; they both knew she did… and somewhat desperately. What bothered her was that he'd arranged it behind her back, and in such a way that she was forced to accept whether or not she'd actually agreed. But when Jon looked at her like that all she could think about was how he was only thinking of her when he went overboard like this, and to him it made perfect sense. End justified results and all that, a policy much easier to agree with when she wasn't the one he whose arm he twisted to get there.

She gestured for him to come closer, and after a moment's pause he came another step up the stairway. Zoey reached out and started brushing the stuff out of his hair, mumbling "Sorry."

"Don't worry." Jon shrugged. "It's my job to look after you, after all."

There was another stretch of silence as her hands worked, but this one was much warmer and it relaxed both of their frayed nerves. When she was done Zoey rested her chin on his head with a sigh, adding "Thanks" to her earlier statement. It wasn't just a 'responsibility' to look after her and they both knew it.

He chuckled and gave her a quick hug back. "About time."

She scowled and flicked his forehead before going down the stairs. "That's for forging my handwriting in your scheme."

"Hey, if McGonagall had gotten a note from _me,_ she would think I was just being overbearing and meddling in someone else's business."

She couldn't reach his head anymore so she elbowed him instead, but it was out of frustration rather than anger. "You _are_ overbearing and meddling in my business. And why aren't _you_ calling her 'Headmistress'?"

"It's just such a weird title…" he complained with a light chuckle, "it feels so unnatural."

Zoey elbowed him again. "Make it natural- this is your job, Jon! Play nice with your colleagues."

"Again with the violence…" he mocked as they continued down the stairs.

There were a few moments of silence in the dusty tower, then with a creak the door to a broom closet slowly opened. Rose staggered out a few steps to the banister, looking down at the pair still arguing as they went on their way, unaware that they'd been spied upon. "James?" She asked uncertainly, wanting- no, _needing_ confirmation that she'd really seen what she just had.

James Potter was slowly winding up the Extendable Ears they'd used to listen in on the conversation, considering. He tried not to smile too much; here it was, something really, truly exciting in the otherwise droll life of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A bit of his smile escaped at the thought as he wrapped the spool attached to his Speye, one of the _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ experimental products Roxanne had slipped past school security.

The creation was a companion to the Extendable Ears- an eyeball that walked about on six legs, fitted with an assortment of spells that let it crawl along any surface. Each Speye has a spool connected back to an Extendable Ear to send an image of what it saw to its user without distorting the sound. They were darkly colored so they could hide in corners and under tables, and when not in use wrapped its legs around itself to form a sphere the size of a snitch. Unfortunately, due to it's dark coloring, multiple appendages, and the web-like resemblance of the string, the final product of the 'Speye' project greatly resembled a spider. As such, and despite it being a perfectly functional item with surprisingly few side effects for one of their products, Uncle Ron flat out refused to shelve them in the Joke Shop.

"James?" Rose's voice wavered as she repeated the question, "James, what did we just see?" If she didn't know better- with their age difference and all, not to mention the improperness of the taboo relationship in society- Rose would say that the transfer student and new Teaching Assistant were secretly romantically involved.

"That, my dear cousin," James grinned and put the Speye in his pocket, joining Rose at the banister to watch the Orion and Zoey leave the Astronomy Staircase, "was proof."

* * *

"I would have appreciated more of a warning, Minister." Headmistress McGonagall admonished the British Minister of Magic even as she served him tea inside her office. "It is not so easy to 'throw in' an extra curriculum at a whim."

"Minerva, it is hardly an entire 'curriculum'." Kingsley Shacklebolt took a sip of his tea. "I am simply making an effort to prepare the future of the wizarding world. If even a handful of your students are set on the path to casting patroni after this lesson, I will consider it a Sunday well spent." He met her gaze sternly. "You remember how invaluable that spell was against Voldemort."

McGonagall remembered all too well. She glanced up at the conversing portraits of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape before looking over the younger gentleman. "Do not question my memory, Shacklebolt. I am not yet that old."

"That was not my intention, I assure you. I am in no position to call a kettle black." Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled, an expression that held quite a few more wrinkles than it had in days gone by. "I just want to ensure a greater degree of safety in the matter. I'm mandating the exact same special class at Durmstrangs and Beauxbatons, as well as attempting to make some manner of general course available to graduated wizards."

"Quite a difference," she murmured, "Your response to escaped dementors, I mean."

"As opposed to old Crouch?" The current Minister asked mildly. "Well we all saw how _his_ method worked- 'ignore bad stuff long enough and it'll go away'. Dug us in a deeper hole than was strictly necessary, after all. Though I find he did have a point. Drawing attention to the dementor problem has certainly done damage to my popularity."

"You've plenty to spare," McGonagall chided his complaining, remembering an old problem of his. "Are there still malcontents about Nabakza?"

"Always." He confirmed with a weary sigh, "Always."

Kingsley looked down at his tea for a moment longer, then shook his head and brought himself back to the problem at hand. "So Minerva- how many of your students do you think have the capacity for spells on this level?"

"Professor Sybble and I set the cut-off at 4th year spellwork," the Headmistress sat behind her desk again. "That should give you the 'handful' that you are looking for, Minister."

"Indeed, indeed." He nodded with content, then paused with his teacup halfway to his lips. "'Spellwork'?" Kingsley quoted, "What about your transfer?"

"Zoethia Malam? She's taking Dark Arts at the First Year level, if you recall. That hardly lends way for advanced wizardly such as this."

"True, yes…" he tapped his fingers on the porcelain cup. "But, isn't that rather discriminatory? She being the only 4th year excluded from the lessons?"

"Not at all. She knew the conditions of transferring into Hogwarts."

"Still- for a child Minerva this is a rather big deal."

The Headmistress looked at him over the rim of her glasses, a habit she'd attained from watching her predecessor. "Is there a particular reason, Kingsley, that you are keen on having her in your special, last-minute class?"

"No." He said quickly, raising the teacup to finish that sip. "No, I merely find it a lost opportunity for her."

"...I see." She thought for a moment, then said "I shall invite Assistant Orion to observe the lesson as well. I'm sure he will find it just as much of an opportunity as she will."

"Will?" Shacklebolt repeated innocently.

"When he no doubt attempts to teach her everything he saw in private."

Shacklebolt took another sip in an attempt to maintain his air of composure; he could talk politicians in circles, but put him in Hogwarts in the Headmaster's Office and he was back to being a tongue-tied schoolboy. "Would he now?"

"Minister surely you do not expect their little visits to go unnoticed." She pulled a note from her desk. "Nor the way he goes out of his way to look out for her. Were you aware, Minister, of how flawlessly he can forge the young Malam's handwriting?"

He pulled the parchment closer to him, asking in a mild tone "How did you know the difference?" even as a part of him fretted over the request itself for Zoey to have personal tutors.

"As a student," McGonagall explained, "Zoethia Malam would use a quill, not a pen. And you are avoiding the issue here, Kingsley. I understand their relationship but Jonovan Orion is too involved. Staff need to maintain a professional distance from _all_ their students." Merlin knew she'd had to remind Mister Longbottom of that often enough, with the number of students in her halls calling him 'Uncle'.

Kingsley was quiet for a moment, then he set the tea and saucer down. "Minerva, I am aware that you have rules and standards- but those two have been through quite a lot together, despite their age. For the moment, you should-" he paused, and to her shock instead of ordering her with his authority said instead "-I would _ask_ that you give them some more leeway on that point than you normally would."

He even held his head bowed for a moment. "Is it that important?" She asked softly, trying to imagine what could make the Minister himself protect the pair on a personal level such as this.

"Yes." He said with conviction.

She tapped her fingers for a moment, then put the note away. "Bring in your tutors on Saturday, Kingsley. To let them settle in.

"I was actually hoping to keep their visit as brief as possible, Minerva. To keep the crowds calm and the matter more organized."

McGonagall smiled at that. "We are speaking of Harry Potter and Hermione Weasley, Minister. Even when they were mere students in these halls, things were never 'calm'."

* * *

Now that was an unusual occurrence, Scorpius Malfoy thought with a small frown. "Hey Nott," he gestured to the table all the way across from them in the Great Hall. "Any idea where Thorn's shadow disappeared off to?"

"Whose what?" He looked over his shoulder, trying to peer through the dinner crowd to see who Malfoy was pointing to. Nott had been sitting with his back to the rest of the Hall, and a few of the Ravenclaws looked over at his actions curiously. He paid them no mind for the moment.

"Albus." Scorpius clarified, referring to the immature Potter boy who always followed Rose around like a little lost puppy. "I think this is the first time he hasn't sat right by Thorn for dinner."

"Oh is it?" Zambini chimed in, trying to see clear across the hall to the Gryffindor table. "And how would you know that?"

"The same way I know that you have Bulstrode, Conners, and Sanderson on your left- missing the fourth member of their group, Michael Strauss, and that Eliza Winters is missing from her group a few tables to the right as well. The two of them have been concurrently absent from group gatherings for about a week." He took a sip of his pumpkin juice to maintain his nonchalance at their shock; Malfoys did not act gleeful over such petty matters. "I predict they are either in detention together, or, just, plain together."

Zambini chuckled and shook his head after confirming the absence of two of their classmates, having vaguely noticed Straus's absence once earlier in the week. "That's bloody creepy when you do that, mate."

Scorpius did allow himself to smile a touch at the compliment, then pointed back to the Gryffindor table with his chin to get them to refocus on the matter at hand. "Albus Potter. You see him?"

"...No, mate. Can't say I do. Then again," Nott stopped searching, as it would only attract more attention for him to stay twisted in his seat for too long, "he is the only Legacy brat without the carrot-head. Makes him harder to spot."

"But he's not at Gryffindor table," Zambini confirmed, taking another bite of his food.

Scorpius tilted his head in contemplation. He had noticed Albus Potter acting strangely this year, particularly around his siblings, but he hadn't thought much of it till now. People were creatures of habit, after all, and for someone to deviate from a set routine this much must mean that something was wrong in the perfect little world of the Legacies. Must be something fairly big. Rose had been looking around the Hall for a while, biting her lip every time she too was unable to find her cousin.

Scorpius looked down at his food when her gaze came their way, commenting mildly "He does seem to have a habit of disappearing a lot. You'd think a Legacy would have more trouble blending into a crowd."

Zambini nodded and agreed around a mouthful of food "'secially one dat 'ooks 'ike Hary 'Otter hinsef."

"Manners, Zambini." Scorpius Malfoy shoved a napkin in his face with an expression of mild disgust.

He coughed and repeated himself "Especially odd for someone that looks like Harry Potter himself."

"Like father like son," Nott quoted and shook his head.

Scorpius gave a minute nod of agreement that wouldn't be noticed by anyone who wasn't watching carefully, as Nott and Zambini often were. He didn't have anything else to say on the subject, he had merely wanted to share an observation.

After a moment Nott offered another topic for perusal. "What did you think of Sybble's announcement?"

"Annoying." Zambini said immediately, stabbing at the peas still left on his plate. He always practically attacked his vegetables before eating them, as though in vengeance for their taste."Do we really need to sacrifice an entire Sunday to an extra Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson?"

"Professor Sybble didn't seem too keen on it either." Scorpius pointed out. "Most likely it was McGonagall's idea, whatever it is."

"Well then, McGonagall should have put it on a weekday." Zambini complained, shaking his head. "We should petition her to change it."

"Oh wonderful plan, Zambini." Nott drawled, grabbing the edge of the table. "Let's see how well that'd work-"

Before the others could stop him, he leaned back suddenly to stop the Slytherin group that had just started walking by, finished with their dinner.

"Oi, Sanderson, wha'd'you think of the special DA lesson this Sunday?"

Sanderson and his two friends were visibly taken aback at the interaction, even stepping away a bit. They all glanced briefly at the Ravenclaw table at different times, seemingly unaware of what they were doing so, before glancing at eachother. Scorpius resisted the temptation to roll his eyes at their mannerisms- expected, but it was no less unamusing to see people act as though familial ties were some sort of deadly plague that could be caught from a sneeze. "It's, er, gonna be interesting, I hope," Sanderson tried stepping around Nott, but couldn't comfortably do so without running into the Ravenclaw table.

Nott pretended not to notice the action. "Doesn't it suck that Sybble is doing it over the weekend?"

"I'm sure _Professor_ Sybble has her reasons," he put a strain on the official title, as though he didn't drop that word often enough and dislike the class himself. He again tried to walk around Nott. "Look, I have to go. See you later, yeah?"

Sanderson made it around Nott and walked away with a brisk pace before his rhetorical question could be answered. Unfortunately one of his friends wasn't quite so nimble and accidentally bumped into the back of one of the Ravenclaw girls, making her spill some of the juice in her goblet.

"Oi!" The girl cried and turned around, glaring at Nott while the real offender rushed away with his friends. When she recognized who Nott was though she scoffed in a manner that Scorpius easily translated as a derogatory ' _of course'_ and turned back around to her friends, sneering rather loudly "Honestly, I don't know why _we_ have to eat so close to _them_."

There was a chorus of agreements before one of them pulled out her wand to clean the stain, but not before one of them said "What else could you expect from young Death Eaters?"

Scorpius saw Zambini's fists go white around his silverware and felt an urge to clench his jaw, but he was careful not to show his anger in any visible way. A Malfoy should not let such a such an ill-conceived, uninformed comment fuel into equal brashness in his own mannerisms.

He did, however, pull out his wand and give it a quick, inconspicuous flick beneath the table. Scorpius took another sip of his pumpkin juice, meeting Nott's eyes over the rim just as the girls started complaining about the stain not coming out, and how it was her favorite outfit that was now ruined.

It took Nott a moment to realize the small vengeance that had been enacted on his behalf, but when he did he gave a wordless nod and relaxed his angry posture as well, letting out a hissing breath that was far from a sigh. "Well," he said in a tense voice as he attempted to recollect his wits, "Still think we should get people to sign a petition for us, mate?"

Zambini just stabbed some more peas.

* * *

"Aaand correct!" Marianngela Zambini smiled and checked off another point on their study sheet. "Nice work Marcel."

Her friend smiled and adjusted the textbook away from him so he could focus on his artwork, currently drawing the fountain in the courtyard below them. "Anything else we need to know?"

"Always," Zoey declared and moved on to the next worksheet that was spread atop the window seat the three occupied to study in, "There's always something more to know."

"Spoken like a true Ravenclaw." Marianngela accused, flipping through her sheets.

"Well I _am_ a Ravenclaw," Zoey Malam pointed out, but frowned in a way that let them know she was about to ask her usual menagerie of rapid-fire questions. "What makes someone a 'true' Ravenclaw? Can there be a 'false' Ravenclaw? Is there some sort of standard? Is it really as hereditary as rumors say, how suited you are for a House that is, or is there some sort of test to see how 'suited' we are?"

It took a moment for them to realize she was seriously asking the question, and Marcel caught on first. "If there were, Malam, you would certainly fail."

"Why?"

"Well-" he scoffed, "-Rowena Ravenclaw certainly wouldn't be in a class with First Years, would she?"

"I should think not," Zoey frowned. "She is dead."

He opened his mouth, then closed it with an expression of mild confusion on how to retort.

"Oh-hoho, she got you on that one, Marcel." Marianngela giggled, putting a hand over her smile.

"Thank you, thank you, I _do_ try." Zoey mock bowed to the younger pair. "But- back to seriousness. To answer your earlier, _intended_ query, Marcel, that should be enough studying _for now_. Don't you think Mari?"

"Yup." The other girl grinned and put away the list, then looked at her friend curiously. "You know, to be honest, I thought you would have reported my masterlist to the Professor."

"Well it's not very 'master', is it?" Zoey tapped the feather of her quill on her lips, looking over her own sheet. "At best it's a collection of your brother's assignments, after all. And though it covers the same content Sybble changes the actual questions. How is that different from any quiz in a textbook study guide?"

Marianngela grinned. "Nicely phrased. I'll have to remember that."

Zoey laughed lightly and shook her head, her currently red hair swaying in its ponytail. "Me too. Honestly I never remember what comes out of my mouth, though it's generally very clever. Very lucky coincidence for me." She was grinning wryly.

"Not _that_ clever." Marcel look up at her with a small frown. "You are in our class, after all."

Zoey raised a brown eyebrow. "Are you saying that anyone in our class is stupid?"

Marianngela frowned hard at him, and he quickly retracted his statement. "No, of course not. I just meant that maybe all that hair dye has seeped into your brain. A fourth year, being older than us, should at _least_ be more mature even if you're not actually smarter than us."

She laughed, a light sound that made everyone who heard it want to smile instinctively. "Touche, Marcy. Touche."

"Don't call me that." Marcel frowned, thrown off by her response. A Slytherin or even a Gryffindor would have taken offense to his statements by now, started an argument or thrown a biting insult back in defensive response. Ravenclaws were odd. He was glad they only had one class with this one.

She laughed again. "Just Marcel, then?"

"I'd rather 'Avery'."

"Hmmm…" She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. "Nope, I like 'Marcel' more. I think 'Marcy' is even better."

"Doesn't matter what _you_ think, Malam." Marcel protested stubbornly, snapping his artbook closed.

"Does it ever?"

"Would you two stop fighting?" Marianngela sighed, shaking her head. "Honestly, you two bicker like siblings."

"What?"

"Thanks!"

Marcel glared at her smiling face, then gathered his stuff. "Com'on Marianngela, let's get to the Hall. It should be late enough now."

"Late enough for what?" Zoey asked, checking her watch and tilting her head at the time it told. It was almost time for the Great Hall to close.

"Dinner." Marianngela said simply, and in a dismissing tone that closed the topic. "We'll see you later, Zoey."

There was a calculating light in her eye, but Zoey nodded and smiled goodbye as they went off. Her smile dropped when they left and she looked out the window for a moment, retreating into her thoughts.

She heard a light scratching of claws coming down the corridor and checked down the hall out of the corner of eye without tensing a muscle, then she grinned broadly and turned in the window seat. "Rasputin!"

The horklump was waddling across the floor toward her, grinning a toothy rat smile. His dark purple spikes were puffed out as far as they could go and something was draggin with a soft scrape against the stone tiles as he went.

Zoey put her toes over the edge of her seat so Rasputin could climb up her leg, uncaring over the sharp pricks from his long claws. When he was in her lap she smiled and stroked his dangerous spikes adoringly, her other hand scratching behind his ear. "Did you break out of your cage again, Raz? Or you out on sanctioned business this time?"

As though the creature could understand her Rasputin adjusted the bracelet he'd kept secured in his spikes, smoothing his quills to let it slide off his body. He nosed it toward her a few times before climbing around her pockets, looking for a reward.

Official, then. She gave the creature the treat before he shredded her robes looking for it- an occurrence that, unfortunately, was not an exaggeration. While he chewed on the fish-smelling bite Zoey fished from an inner pocket the girl smiled at her repaired bracelet, inspecting each of the charms. She was surprised to find the dagger hanging innocently from its loop, though she'd thought it lost after she'd fought the kelpie.

"Wonder how he did that," she muttered to herself as she slipped it onto her wrist and felt a sensation of relief, like the comfort of a favorite jacket or an old, well-loved lullaby. She also wondered why Jon went out of his way to send Rasputin over with it now. They had plans to meet after dinner anyways.

She looked down at the prickly creature relaxing in her lap, poking his side fearlessly. Razputin pushed her hand away and rolled over in the sunlight, preparing to sleep.

"You know," Zoey poked him again, speaking slowly like she was revealing a huge secret. "Your master is a hopeless worrywart."

Rasputin sneezed, the closest possible animal approximation of _Of course. Even_ I _know that._

"He probably thought I'd feel better the instant I had this back," Zoey fingered the single locket charm on her bracelet, then sighed in frustrated admiration and leaned the back of her head on the wall with a muted _thump_. "Is he always right?"

Rasputin sneezed again.

* * *

 _If you enjoyed the read, please leave a review! I want to know what everybody thinks as I go along._

 _If you didn't like the read- tell me anyways! I want to know what I can fix along the way to make it as fun for readers as it is for me to write!_

 _-E_


	15. Ch 15 Hot Seat

**Ch. 14- Hot Seat**

* * *

It wasn't anything particular about her face. She wasn't smiling, and she wasn't frowning- she had her usual, perpetual poker face on her features. Nor was it the way she was walking. It wasn't slower, or faster- and she certainly wasn't 'skipping' or anything unrefined like that. And yet, somehow, Priscilla Parkinson seemed to be brimming with satisfaction as she walked down the Slytherin staircase from her dorm.

Thomas Nott smiled as she sat down beside him. "You look particularly content this morning."

"Do I?"

"No. Not at all. But you _did_ do something, didn't you?"

Priscilla did smile slightly, pulling out her schoolwork with such nonchalance that Nott _knew_ he was right.

He knew better than to think he could make her share information a single instant before she was ready to. However he didn't need to wait long, as their Head of House came in the common room with an expression of disappointment that made everyone tense.

Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Allison Sybble normally looked nothing like a Slytherin should. She had soft blond hair, a plump figure, and was quick to smile. She wasn't strict on the other Houses or lenient toward anyone in her own- if anything, she was almost considered a pushover by the rest of her school.

But the instant Professor Sybble was within the confines of her Slytherin House, she showed how accomplished she was at the 'deceitful' part of Slytherin's cunning requirement. When alone with her students, her demeanor changed into that of a medieval slave driver fully prepared to wield a whip for results. "Wake everyone." She declared tersely, and no one argued despite the early hour.

When the majority of her House was assembled Sybble looked them over with a discerning eye, as though they should all look perfect the instant they awoke and the many bleary eyes, yawns, and tangled messes of hair was a personal affront.

"Wha's goin' on?" Zambini yawned blearily, quite annoyed that he'd been forcefully torn from a fantastically pleasant dream. Priscilla nudged him and nodded up towards the front of the room.

Upon seeing their House leader Melissa froze at the bottom of the stairs, then stopped fussing with her mess of bed head and rushed over to her friends. "What happened this time?"

"Hasn't said yet," Zambini whispered back while he made room for her to sit next to him.

A few minutes later people stopped coming down the stairs, and Scorpius wasn't one of them. At their looks of confusion Priscilla, probably the only calm person in the entire room, said mildly "Malfoy is researching in the library again. Said he has to tutor the Transfer this evening, so he wanted to get ahead on the work."

"Oh." Melissa blinked a few times, tapping her fingers together. "He's really trying hard, isn't he?"

"We all are," Zambini assured her, though he couldn't dispute that Scorpius was probably doing the best.

After all her students were present, Professor Syllable cleared her throat. The whole room went quiet instantly.

"It has recently come to light that certain miscreants seemed to believe they could exploit the lack of security in the castle dormitories."

"What is she talking about?" Nott whispered to Priscilla, knowing full well the dorms were one of the safest places in Hogwarts.

"What I am talking about, Mr. Nott," Sybble continued, "is the fact that two students were found with Firewhiskey in their rooms."

That set the common room ablaze with whispers, only to be immediately silenced as Sybble cleared her throat. The message in her gaze was clear- Allison Sybble was _not_ one to be interrupted. Once silence had again enveloped the area, the Slytherin Head of House went on.

"Those responsible will be suspended until the end of the semester- and could possibly never be admitted back into this facility if the Headmaster deems it necessary."

Other than a slight intake from the of students in the room, no noise was made. It was not an idle threat nor unexpected; more Slytherins had been suspended and punished in the times since the Second War than was quite believable. The biggest threat to them was now, however. Whenever Sybble announced a punishment she always left the names for last. She seemed to enjoy watching the rest of the room squirm, and marked people for future inspection.

Melissa Goyle began raking her mind, trying to remember if she'd ever even considered bringing the alcohol to school. Sure- she'd always _considered_ trying some whenever they went to Hogsmeade, every student wanted to try some of the brew. But few were daring enough to take a sip of Firewhiskey, which could get them detention for a week if Sybble heard a word of it, let alone bring two bottles of the stuff back to school.

"When I call your name, step forwards. No one is to go in any of the dorm rooms until after dinner. They are to be searched."

"But what if our books are in there?"

Sybble slowly looked at the first year who'd responded, the young boy writhing under her cold gaze, "I suggest you visit the library. Now, as I was _saying_ ," she cast her eyes across the heads of the assembled group, "If I find one of you disobeyed my directions, I will make sure your punishment is just as severe. Am I understood?" There was a flurry of head bobs and murmured 'yes ma'am's. "Good." Sybble took a deep breath.

"Sixth years Bulstrode and Jackson, please step forwards and come with me to the Headmistress' office."

"WHAT!" Odetta Oakinson, the Slytherin Quidditch Team Captain, jumped up amidst a chorus of shocked complaints from the entire room. "But- but Professor- our match against Ravenclaw-"

"Are you suggesting, Miss Oakinson, that membership on the Slytherin Quidditch Team gives them leave to break school rules?" She spoke slowly, and her wording was intentional- she was subtly accusing Odetta of knowing their guilt or was perhaps guilty herself .

"No," she said nervously, watching her star beater and chaser walk to their doom at Sybble's side. She literally had to bite her tongue to stop herself from uttering 'but', already thinking over how many plays would have to be amended without them.

Nott tuned out the proceedings and frustrated complaints of the room insisting that Odetta would have to beat Ravenclaw anyways, the poor girl all but collapsing under the pressure. Instead he met Priscilla's gaze across the table, tilting his head slightly to her in respect.

Priscilla blinked a bit longer than normal before turning her gaze to watch the pair of boys that had bullied Zambini's little sister a few days ago leave their common room. And only after Sybble's perceptive gaze had gone with them did she let herself a small smile.

* * *

"Wrong."

"Horrible."

"What was that supposed to be?"

"Your grip is all wrong."

"You call that a flick? That was a swish if I ever saw one."

"Atrocious."

"Are you even trying? Honestly…"

"Now that was just pathe-"

" _Will you stop that!?_ " Zoey spun around furiously, her wand shooting sparks in an arc.

Rose Weasley inspected her nails as she sat behind the teacher's desk in the empty classroom they were using, commenting "I don't see why you're getting so upset over some honest feedback."

Zoey huffed in frustration. "You're not supposed to give me feedback on my spellwork, he is."

Scorpius Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the thumb that was jerked in his direction. "'He' has a name," Scorpius chided as he used his wand to lower her hand from its current position.

"And 'he' has wasted the last thirty minutes of his life trying to teach you how to cast _aguamenti_." Rose pointed out even as she smiled at Scorpius's visual frustration, a rare occurrence. "Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard for him to find you a better tutor after all."

He scowled at the implication that he was inept for the task at hand. "At least I'm making more progress with her than you did, Thorn. You barely made it ten pages into that study book."

"And that was an accomplishment, considering how much time she spent actually listening," Rose scoffed and raised her voice in a mocking manner as she quoted Zoey's responses. "'Rose, why are the goblins so interested in gold? How do they enchant their gold- they must have something to prevent counterfeits, right? Do you think they could be the reason muggle gold reserves are disappearing? Could the goblins be using that to forge more Galleons? I don't suppose they'd ever give that back, Rose, after all-'"

Scorpius huffed once in amusement. He couldn't help it, the imitation was uncanny. The sound made Rose stop in surprise, then smile smugly with a feeling of success.

Zoey looked away from them both. "Well I think they were good questions."

"Hey," Scorpius wasn't entirely sure why her discomfort was something he should address, but he felt obliged to do so anyways. "Loads of people have problems with Magical History. It's a boring class no matter who teaches it."

"Except Jon-" she paused, obviously having intended to stop the name there but catching herself at the last moment "-ooo-van Orion, the Assistant! His classes are really fun, right?" She looked at them both, smiling.

Scorpius, for his part, saw her deception as easily as any practiced Slytherin could. Firstly, the only thing different about History of Magic was that with the new Assistant, it was harder to sleep through. Secondly, he sincerely doubted that half the female population at Hogwarts paid attention to anything in that classroom that wasn't Jonovan Orion himself. The 'fan club' that he and Nott had joked about had actually become a reality. There was a literal Jonovan Orion fan club now, and they were not pleased by the way that Zoey seemed to have attached herself to his side already.

What a fake smile, Rose frowned uncomfortably. Now that she'd seen Zoey's relationship with Orion herself, she was seeing through the girl's false mannerisms. Zoey was far more secretive than she'd been given credit for- hiding things behind a smile or answering a question with a question. The girl wasn't as clever as she thought herself.

"Right?" Zoey asked again, puzzled and a bit unnerved by their silence.

"Loads." Scorpius summarized in a tone that suggested they were anything but.

"And your questions-" Rose added, not wanting to lose the point of debate she'd prepared before she was yet _again_ interrupted by a tangential subject. "-were interrupting my attempt to teach you something new. Do you remember _anything_ from those ten pages?"

"That…" She froze in the moment, and in the manner of anyone who was asked something important promptly forgot the answer. A small blush rose to her cheeks. "…goblins like gold?"

Scorpius Malfoy actually chortled in amusement.

Rose swelled with another sense of accomplishment and erupted into a fit of giggles. "You're hopeless," she declared through her amusement and gathered her things, walking out of the room. "And I'm done here."

"You're just giving up?" Zoey asked incredulously, watching her go.

"Who would blame me?" Rose pointed to the clock, however. "But it is time for my quidditch practice. We're playing Hufflepuff soon. Good luck Scorpius. Oh and Zoey…"

The girl ran her nails along her scalp and looked at the Weasley, wondering what she was going to criticise _now._ Her posture? Her eye color? Her _breathing_? "What?" Zoey asked tersely, about to get seriously upset.

"-You set the curtains on fire."

Scorpius followed the direction of her gaze to see that yes, indeed, there was a fire in the room. Not just the curtains, though- the shower of sparks Zoey had accidentally discharged minutes ago had caught papers alight, which had ignited a small shelf , and _then_ the aforementioned curtains themselves caught fire.

Zoey shouted in surprise and immediately started moving any further kindling out of the flame's reach, "Don't just stand there! Ee-" she jerked a hand back from the flames when it it caught the paper she'd been reaching for. "Help me!"

"You know," Scorpius leaned against the desk with much the same expression Rose had held ten minutes earlier. "A magic spell for summoning water would be perfect right about now."

"Yes! Good!" Zoey squeaked again and pulled off her outer robe, trying to choke out part of the flame. "Use it!"

That was quite a lot of sound effects she used, Scorpius noted mildly. Throughout this session Zoethia Malam had made several variations of growls, grunts, squeaks, and squeals that portrayed her various emotions rather well. "I don't particularly feel like I should."

" _Why_?"

"Well, that's not my bag about to go up in smoke."

"Whaa- no!" Zoey danced around the edge of the flames, biting her lip. "Oh no no no no no…"

" _Aguamenti._ Go on."

She growled mildly under her breath, not needing to turn around to know he was making a little 'shoo' motion with his hand. Grabbing the wand, she pointed it at the fire. " _Aguamenti!_ "

"...you know, she had a point." Scorpius admitted, looking at the small trickle of water coming from Zoethia's hazel wand, lacking in volume or pressure to even _reach_ the flames. "That isn't particularly impressive."

Somehow, his lack of an insult bit her just as bad as Rose's repeated ones. Zoey scowled and cut off the spell, casting it again.

That wasn't even marginally better. Coughing a touch from the smoke, Scorpius stepped off from the desk, moving to stand behind her. "How is that working out for you?"

Zoey jumped a bit at his sudden proximity, losing her concentration on the spell. "Fine. You go on and laugh some more, I'll take care of this."

He raised an eyebrow, wondering if that was an attempt to insult or chastise. He decided that either case, it didn't matter to him. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Hah."

Zoey jumped again at the sudden, forced laugh that echoed in her ear, turning around. "What was that supposed to be?"

"Me." Scorpius was smiling in amusement. "Laughing some more."

"Youugh," Zoey trailed off in a low groan, putting her head in her hands. "You are _not_ helpful."

"Who said I was trying to be?" Scorpius coughed again, lifting the collar of his shirt over his nose. This really was quite a lot of smoke. There fire didn't really pose a threat, but he supposed "I'll get it."

"Not a chance." Zoey elbowed him as she stepped ahead of him, catching him by surprise as she caught his solar plexus.

He grunted and doubled over for a moment. "I thought you _wanted_ my help?"

She started the spell again, declaring "Not anymore."

"What changed?"

"For one-" Zoey said grimly, gritting her teeth. "My bag is already past saving."

"Oops?" Scorpius said, not sounding very contrite.

"For another, it- is- un-der con-trol."

His eyes rose to the ceiling at her seeming correlation between effort and over-annunciation. "I beg to diff-"

He didn't get a chance to finish, as a burst of water exploded from her wand like a firehose. The pressure knocked her off her feet and backwards- straight into Scorpius, who hadn't yet decided if he wanted to step around her himself yet. He grunted at the collision and fell back, Zoey toppling onto him.

"No, no stop _stop!"_ Zoey was doing her best to keep hold of her wand, which was vibrating and continuing to jettison water long after the flames were put out. She sputtered as the water got _everywhere,_ soaking the entire room and her with it.

"Put it down!" Scorpius cried, trying to grab her hand. "Let go of it!"

"What?" Zoey shouted, not able to hear him over the sound of the sound of the roaring water.

"Wand! Give-" he spluttered as a she sprayed him straight in the face, putting a hand up to block it. "Now!" He grasped her wand out of her hand, the spell stopping the instant it left her grip.

There was a moment of silence and catching their breath, then Zoey started laughing.

Scorpius pushed his wet bangs out of his eyes, looking down at her over the bridge of his nose. "What's so funny?"

Zoey laughed- she never did that annoying girlie giggle thing, Scorpius realized distantly, and she only laughed when she was really truly entertained, not when she was trying to catch some boy's attention. "Wand. Give. Now." She snorted and laughed some more, falling off where she'd landed on his chest. "That was so smooth, Malfoy."

"The sarcasm is not appreciated," Scorpius reported and dropped her wand like it was a tissue to be discarded.

Zoey kept laughing, her hair falling around her face since her ponytail came loose. She ran a hand through it as she looked up at him, grinning broadly. "Something the matter?"

He blinked at her a few times, then repeated slowly since she'd apparently missed it the first time. "The sarcasm was not appreciated."

"I got that bit."

Scorpius looked at her a bit longer. "You're still calling me 'Malfoy'."

"So you noticed?" She started wringing the water out of her hair, a seemingly endless task.

"Of course I did," he sounded insulted that she doubted his observation skill. "In McGonagall's office, and just now, Rose called me by my first name."

"Mmmhmm…" She started wringing out her shirt next. "And it bothers you that I still call you 'Malfoy'?"

He didn't answer. He'd often found that was the best way to deter a conversation of questions… particularly on occasions when he was unsure about the answer.

"Well, I _know_ your name," Zoey said after a pause, "But you still haven't told it to me."

"And that makes a difference?"

"Of course."

He watched her stand up with a weary consideration. "I'm afraid I don't follow on how."

"Well, if you haven't told me your first name yourself, that mean that you don't want me to use it." Zoey held her hand out to him. "So, until you tell me your name is 'Scorpius' with your own lips, Malfoy- I'll keep calling you 'Malfoy'."

He looked at the hand like it was some kind of trap. "Why would I tell you something you already know?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Zoey smiled, shaking her hand in the air as though to make it more enticing.

"Because that would be redundant." He stood on his own, leaving her hand where it was.

Undeterred, she poked him in the side. "And what's wrong with that?"

He looked down at her significantly shorter figure, raising an eyebrow. "If I'm to waste time reminding you of something, Wainbata, it'll be something useful- like how to hold your wand when you're casting a spell. You do not squeeze it in both hands like a cricket bat." Scorpius spoke with extreme distaste for the muggle sport.

"I did not-" she protested, only to look back on the event and realize that was exactly what she had done. "- do so intentionally."

"Hm." Scorpius held her gaze, then looked at the clock himself. "Well, watch your intentions for next session."

Zoey sighed and picked what was left of her scorched robes, muttering "You know, you _could_ have stepped in before my homework went up in flames."

"No need. Your bag is with Rose Weasley." He smiled a touch at her surprised expression. "She grabbed yours on accident."

"Oh. _Oh._ " Zoey tried not to smile too much as she looked at the destroyed bag that was not hers but Rose's, "Is it bad that the only word going through my head right now is 'karma'?"

Malfoy didn't recognize the word and decided it must be muggle, and therefore he didn't need to respond.

"Well, since I'm already soaked and I _unfortunately_ don't have my homework at the moment-" Zoey grinned, "I'm going for a swim."

"A swim?"

"Yeah- I'll meet Tristan there."

A guy. He looked at her soaked figure, then turned and picked up his own bags. "Well, I hope you enjoy your date-"

" _PEEVES!"_ Zoey screamed at the top of her lungs, making him jump out his skin. " _Hey PEEEEVES!"_

The blue poltergeist appeared at her side pretty quickly for an entity known to make trouble all over Hogwarts. She grinned at him. "I'm trying to get to the lake. Do you have time to show me another shortcut?"

Scorpius Malfoy paled slightly as he remembered his own experience with just one of Peeves's secret passages, and decided that Zoethia Malam probably had the courage of a Gryffindor after all.

* * *

"Never did like Mungo's," Ron commented softly as they walked through the halls of the magical hospital. "Something about the way it feels…"

"You say the same thing about dentists," Hermione chided as she looked at the door numbers, leading them through the maze-like facility.

"But I don't like drills!"

"If you brushed your teeth more often, you wouldn't need to have so many fillings. Just be glad my parents gave you a family discount."

"I'm more grateful their hands didn't shake at a critical moment…" he mumbled, looking around St. Mungo's again. "How long till we find her?"

"Give me a moment, it's been awhile." Hermione stopped, then turned around and took a different hall than the one she had just chosen, mumbling "R-527, R-527…" under her breath.

Ron wisely chose not to comment on the apparent mistake. "How did you find out where she was, anyways?"

"I work at the Ministry, Ronald. I have more than just a couple connections to people in high places."

"You _are_ a high place." he mumbled under his breath, walking backwards for a moment just because he was reckless. The new view made him pause as he remembered this hall from a long time ago. "Hermione, isn't this the memory ward?"

"Hm?"

"You know- where we ran into Lockhart that one time?"

Hermione stopped and took a proper look at her surroundings, frowning a bit. "Maybe." It was a long time ago. "Could be."

Ron left it at that, but when his wife backtracked a second time he was forced to ask "Are we lost?"

"Of course not. I know _exactly_ where we are."

"Right." Ron let her continue with the wrong turns for a few moments longer, then asked "Now do you know where we are?"

"Ron!"

"What? I'm just asking a question." He did his best to appear as innocent and clueless about her ire as possible, a fairly easy task. After a little while he leaned toward her and whispered "We could ask a healer for directions you know."

Hermione sounded offended. "I don't need directions, I know precisely where to go. Room R-527."

"Right. But do you know how to _get_ there?"

Before she could answer another voice cut in. "Paradise just never goes well for you, does it Granger?"

The marital couple tensed, then turned around. "Malfoys," Ron said in the same way that he might say 'dementors'. Dread, distaste, and old anger.

"Hello," Astoria Malfoy smiled, but it was forced in the manner that was usual for people in a hospital.

"Draco, Astoria," Hermione kept a civil head since Merlin knew _Ronald_ certainly wasn't going to. "What are you doing here?"

Astoria looked up at her husband and seemed to reach a conclusion that was very similar to Hermione's. "We came to visit Lucius." Her forced smile wobbled. "He had a heart attack last spring."

"Oh. Oh I…" she wasn't quite 'sorry' to hear about Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's once right-hand-man, falling ill. "I had no idea."

"We kept it out of the media." Astoria smiled sadly, like she had known exactly what Hermione hadn't been able to say. "But you're trying to find an 'R' room? Those are restricted security, they're in a completely different section of the hospital." She pointed down the hall and told her the route with ease, and Hermione realized exactly how often the Malfoys had been here of late.

"Thank you for the help," Hermione said genuinely, easily memorizing the directions the first time she heard them. She grabbed Ron's arm and started dragging him away from his wordless staring contest with Draco. "Oh don't be such a child Ron and let's go find Avery."

"Avery?" Draco repeated in shock, the first word he'd spoken since interrupting their conversation.

"Yeah," Ron narrowed his gaze suspiciously, obviously wanting to know why _Draco Malfoy_ was interested in the name.

"That's a pureblood family," Astoria pointed out, holding Draco's arm. "We went to school with a couple of them."

He nodded once in her direction, then looked up the Weasley couple. "But none were in our grade. I didn't realize you knew them."

"Actually we don't," Hermione admitted, pulling lightly at Ron's sleeve. "We're getting introduced."

"Oh I see." Astoria smiled in that forced manner again, waving lightly. "Well, good luck then."

"...'Getting introduced'. Really, Hermione, I don't know where you come up with this stuff."

"Oh be quiet, you." She marched them along the way, leaving the Malfoy couple far behind. "It would take too long to explain and anyways, you know we're not supposed to trust anyone without Kingsley's permission."

"And even if, we'd never trust _them_." He said with extreme prejudice.

"Ron, the War was over twenty years ago."

"That doesn't mean I trust them. Malfoy was always a git long before the Second War started up."

Hermione raised her eyes to the ceiling but didn't argue, _finally_ arriving at their destination. "Here. R-527."

A Healer stopped their progress at their door. "Who are you visiting?"

"Zelina Avery." Hermione reported, waiting patiently.

"...I'm sorry, ma'am, but only friends and family are allowed to enter. You're not on the list."

"Well, that's the thing. We don't _know_ if we're friends with her, see, we just want to know if we ever were."

"Because that makes perfect sense," Hermione said in a rare display of sarcasm, then smiled at the Healer again. "Look, could you maybe make an exception and tell her we're here, see if she recognizes us?"

The man's face turned to suspicion. "I'm sorry, but the answer is 'no'. Miss Avery is here to treat near-total memory loss. She can't recognize anybody."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered under his breath, "I thought he was exaggerating."

"Language." Hermione scowled, a habit from when their children were running underfoot. "Look, I know you're already giving us leeway, but could you at least tell us who _is_ listed as a friend? Maybe we could talk to them?"

The Healer was properly abashed- talking to living legends had made him a bit loose-tongued despite doctor-patient confidentiality. "It's not leeway for me to tell you this, ma'am- she has no one listed as 'friend'."

Ron looked at him incredulously. "Say that again, mate?"

"She has only one person cleared to visit, and that's family." The Healer repeated, his voice dropping with a hint of regret. "One relative."

"Oh." Hermione looked at the ground sadly, trying to imagine how lonely that could be.

"Oi," Ron asked with sudden inspiration, "Could you show us a picture of Avery?"

The Healer hesitated then took out her patient file, pulling off the ID picture and passing it over the counter.

"Well? Is she familiar?" Hermione asked after a moment, unsure how she'd feel about either answer at this point.

"No." Ron said and shook his head slowly, feeling a bit disappointed even as he handed the picture away. "No, I've never seen her before in my life."

* * *

"James Sirius Potter and Rose Weasley, wanting to know more about Zoethia Malam." Christine Creevy snapped a quick photo, standing smugly in the manner of someone who knows she has the upper hand. "Why do two of the best Legacies want to know more about my little Housemate?"

"We, um, well…" Rose bit her lip nervously, unsure about what to state. She didn't want to blurt out the real reason, after all.

"What are we, chopped liver?" Roxanne Weasley huffed, "You know Lor I think I'm insulted."

"I _know_ I'm insulted," Lorcan Scamander folded his arms as he leaned on one side of the door frame, Rox on the other. It was one of their usual positions and had the added benefit of allowing them to easily see people coming from either direction.

James glanced at them for a moment, then looked at Christine with a winning smile. "I'm afraid that's a secret, Christine, but I would owe you one."

"Oh?" Christine leaned forward in a way that exaggerated her already-large chest, smiling as she looked him up and down. "Last I remember, James, you already owed me quite a few. What more could you possibly give me?"

They way they were practically _purring_ each other's names made Rose nauseous. A strangled noise of protest escaped her throat, and they both thankfully leaned back at the reminder of an audience.

"I'd make it worth your while," James promised confidently, adjusting his glasses. "That is, assuming you have something worth trading for."

"Of course I do." She refuted with an air of hurt dignity, sitting down atop a desk and crossing her legs.

"Good thing Fred isn't here," Lorcan muttered from the doorway. "That skirt is way shorter than school regulation. Mr. Temporary-Prefect would give her detention in a heartbeat."

Rox looked at Christine and back to her friend with surprise. "Are you _looking?_ "

"No! No I was just pointing out- well _yes_ but that doesn't mean-"

"U-huh, uhuh. Eyes front, soldier."

"I really don't…" While they were having their quiet argument, Christine had pulled out some of her pictures of the first few weeks of Hogwarts; she _never_ threw out a photograph.

"Zoey Malam-" Christine started, passing them the photos she was willing to share. "-was a _huge_ deal at the start of the year, if you recall. People were almost more interested in her than the new Legacy brat-"

"Oi," Rose scowled, "That's my brother you're talking about."

She got a dismissive hand waved in her direction for her troubles. "Everyone figured that someone who arrived with such fanfare and drama- the special Ceremony and the kelpie and all- _must_ have a big story. And the weird, vibrant, color changing hair she has… people place bets on what color they'll see her with, in case you didn't know. But everyone assumed that Zoey must have a secret skill, hide a dark past, actually is undercover agent… one of the really wild theories going around was that Zoey Malam was an illegitimate Legacy kid here to prove herself."

"What?" James asked with a sudden flare of anger, his hand tensing around the photo he'd been looking at. Christine plucked it from his grip before he could wrinkle it.

"Do you want to hear about her or not?" She waited until they both nodded reluctantly, then returned the photo and kept talking. "But it's been a month and a half now, and she's been perfectly normal. She'd down to earth, friendly, kind- a grand, three syllable name like 'Zoethia' doesn't suit her at all, and she told everyone to call her Zoey anyways so everyone does. Within the first few weeks she was practically integrated into Hogwarts without a single hitch. It probably helps that she's not just in 4th year classes, so she's run into a lot of people very quickly."

"I knew that," Rose chimed in, then shrunk back into herself a little bit. "Sorry. Staying quiet."

Christine stared her down a moment longer before continuing after the _third_ interruption. "She didn't transfer from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, actually. She was privately tutored, and whoever did it did a shoddy job. Zoey Malam is only taking _two_ classes at her year level, _and_ she has a mandatory break study period instead of one of her electives."

This was news to James, and frankly he wasn't sure what to make of it. She didn't seem to be as much of a potential threat as he'd thought.

There was a pause of silence, and Rose dared to try speaking up again. "That doesn't sound very helpful…"

"Oh isn't it?" Christine lifted her nose. "Tell me, Rose Weasley, have you ever known anyone to be _perfectly_ normal?"

Rose opened her mouth and then closed it, looking at James to see if he understood what Creevy meant.

James sighed as though disappointed in her lack of understanding and gestured for Christine to go ahead and explain, even though he wasn't sure exactly what the self-appointed gossip meant either.

"She should have ruffled a few feathers, made a few enemies, said something tactless- slipped up at some point by now. But even after six weeks, she has remained friends with absolutely _everybody_ and revealed _nothing_ about her background. Her family, where she's from, why she came to Hogwarts- and somehow, people don't care to know anymore." She sounded frustrated, but whether it was from the lack of intel or the lack of public interest was hard to tell. "Zoey Malam's transition into this school couldn't have gone better if she'd planned it."

"Well…" Rose scratched her nose nervously, then offered a tidbit that she'd learned all the way back on the Hogwarts Express. "She's a halfblood."

"Thank you." Christine threw her hand in the air in frustration. "But _who_ was her wizard parent? Why did they send her to tutors for three years before bringing her to Hogwarts with half of what she's supposed to know? Zoey gives answers that feel all-inclusive, but really doesn't tell much of anything about her herself."

Rose, Roxanne, and Lorcan all grew silent at that, considering. James smiled with a feeling of triumph as he prompted "So you think she's hiding something?"

"Oh I _know_ she is." Christine pulled out a photo of the Ravenclaw Quidditch tryouts with an air of success, slamming it on the table in front of them.

They looked at the moving photo of the Ravenclaw Captain lining up the new applicants in confusion for a moment, then looked up at her for explanation.

"Right there- in the back," Christine pointed to the back as she waited for the picture to restart it's loop. "Zoey signed up for the tryouts, but when she got there she took one look at the Captain and left immediately. See?"

"Yes…" Rose said slowly, not seeing the importance.

"The Ravenclaw Captain is Head Girl _Emma Wilkes,_ one of the House Representatives that helped sort her. After I saw this I kept a closer eye on the other Representatives: Daniel from Gryffindor, Rupert from Hufflepuff and- Priscilla, from Slytherin," her face soured on the last name. "And I found that Zoey Malam makes an active effort to avoid _all four_ of them."

"Is that so Christine?" James leaned closer to the picture, as though a detailed inspection would give him the explanation he wanted.

"My theory-" Christine put her hand a bit lower on her chest than was normal and Rose looked away uncomfortably, "-is that the Sorting Hat, which uses Legilimens to look into First Years' heads, let them _know_ something about Zoey that the girl didn't want them to."

"Good theory," Rose agreed, seeing how that could be possible on a hypothetical level. "What did they tell you?"

"Nothing." She practically spat in frustration. "Not a single one will share anything about it. McGonagall must've told them not to, or maybe it's some sort of aftereffect from the Ceremony itself."

"Don't worry. It'll be more fun this way," James announced as he stood, smiling to himself.

"What will be?" Rox asked from the doorway, though she was pretty certain.

"Finding Zoey Malam's secret."

* * *

"When is she going to get here?" Albus Potter whined, slumping as he waited in the Great Hall for the third evening in a row.

Lysander didn't look up from the book he was reading, but he did take a moment to close his eyes and take a slightly deeper breath than normal. "When she is hungry, I would assume."

Albus groaned and banged his head on the Ravenclaw table with a thud, making the silverware rattle.

A couple of the students glared in his direction as the vibrations forced them to pause their essays, but when they saw the culprit they just shook their heads fondly and went back to work.

"Do stop that," Lysander chided passively as he flipped the page.

 _Thud. Thud._ "Stop what?"

"Interrupting their work," Zoey smiled as she slid into the seat across from Lysander and beside the pouting Potter, "We Ravenclaws tend to take our assignments rather seriously, you know."

"Zoey!" Albus immediately perked up, sitting upright in his seat. He did a double-take at her appearance. "What happened to you?" The surprise in his voice encouraged Lysander to look up, and he raised his eyebrows at her appearance as well.

She grinned despite her soaking wet appearance and the strands of mossweed caught in her hair, careful not to get the table wet as she started serving herself dinner. "I went for a swim in the lake."

"In your clothes?" he asked incredulously, his eyes wandering over how her shirt clung to her frame and the way her hair was still dripping. He looked away with a slight cough of embarrassment.

"As opposed to what? I didn't exactly have a swimsuit on me. It was either clothes or…" she trailed off as she took a bite of her food.

Albus blushed at the idea of Zoey skinny dipping, but Lysander, uncharacteristically, came to his rescue as he finished Zoey's statement. "Or coming back to the tower to pick up your swimsuit."

"Mmhm," she pointed to Lysander with her fork, smiling. "And that would have taken ages."

Albus released a sigh as his heart rate dropped back to normal, deciding to move past the subject. "So where have you had dinner the past few days?"

"The kitchens," Zoey said slowly, tilting her head at him. "Why?"

"Oh, er, well I just, you know, didn't see you is all." Albus ran a hand through his hair, and realized that despite his attempts with a comb that morning it was back to its usual unruly mess.

"You found the kitchens already?" Lysander asked in mild interest. Despite the many Hogwarts secrets that their parents' had discovered during their education, none of the Legacy children had been told where to find any of them. The Room of Requirement, the Kitchens, the passages to Hogsmead or just around the school… everyone knew the stories, but by seemingly unanimous decision none of Dumbledore's Army had shared a single location with their children. It seemed to be some attempt to maintain the school's mystery. The one reluctant exception being the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom; a harmless decision, since none of them were or knew any parseltongues.

"It was an accident," Zoey sighed. "I was completely lost, again, and started talking to the portraits for directions, and then one nice lady- I think she was from like the eighteenth century, she was wearing muggle victorian style clothes- asked if I was hungry. I said yes because I was, of course, it was late at night- and she walked me over to the picture and told me to 'tickle the banana'." She laughed at the idea of it, shaking her head. "Who comes up with these spells, anyways?"

Lysander smiled a bit himself. "Obviously, someone with a sense of humor."

"And an appetite," Albus put in just to stay involved with the conversation.

"And probably likes making others feel silly," Zoey tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling. "What about you two? What have you been up to?"

"Well _apparently_ there's to be an all-day class on Sunday," Lysander said with more than a touch of frustration, "So I've been trying to get ahead on my schoolwork."

"Actually," Albus wasn't one to gossip, but knowing what he did he couldn't quite stay still. He leaned toward Zoey to whisper the secret like an energetic kid. "It's going to be a lesson on _expecto patronum._ My dad and Aunt Hermione will be teaching it."

Unknown to him quite a few people heard his excited words, and soon the rumor started to make its way through the Hall.

Zoey, however, had a very mild reaction. "Sounds exciting. Let me know how it goes."

"You won't be there?" Albus's shoulders slumped, and his expression reminded Zoey of a puppy being left at home alone. Lysander looked at the reaction with interest.

"Not by choice!" She immediately assured, holding up her hands in protest. "Sybble doesn't think my DA skills are advanced enough. And she's probably right…" As much as her laugh made everyone around her happy, a frown on Zoey's face had just as much if not more of an effect on her surroundings, possibly because it was so rare.

Albus tried not to panic at the sight. "Hey, hey don't be sad! That's not- I mean- you can always- lets go to Hogsmeade together!"

Lysander almost choked on his water, putting the goblet down to stare at Albus incredulously while he thumped his chest to clear his airway.

"Sandy? You okay?" Zoey looked ready to jump over the table and do a heimlich on him.

He coughed one last time and looked at her in continuing frustration. "I will be considerably better once you stop calling me that."

"I don't think a nickname has any effect on whether or not you choke."

"Don't I have a right to decide what you call me?" Lysander had no desire for that nickname to catch on.

Albus slumped in his chair again as he waited for their conversation to end, swinging his legs under the table. He accidentally kicked Zoey and regained her attention.

"Oh right- sorry Al, what was that you said about Hogsmeade?"

"We should… go together." He tried to regain his confidence as he spoke the words. "Instead of that silly special class this Sunday. I can always get dad to teach me later."

"That's sweet," Zoey smiled, "But I don't want to get you in trouble. Besides, it must be a pretty important spell if they're bringing in special teachers, right?"

"Right." Albus slumped a bit more, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"However-" Zoey bumped him with her shoulder, "I would love a tour of Hogsmeade a different day. Your uncle has a joke shop there, right? And Hogsmeade supposedly has the 'best candy store ever'...?"

"Yeah," Albus perked up, smiling again. "Yeah, Honeydukes! You'll love it, Zoey."

"It's a deal then."

Lysander looked between the two of them silently, still having yet to return to his book since the conversation started. After Zoey left them to do her History assignment he looked at Albus with a knowing gleam in his eye. "I thought you couldn't wait until your dad finally taught you how to cast _expecto patronum._ "

He squirmed in his seat. "So?"

"So instead you wanted to show Zoey a candy store. You hate sweets."

"It's what she wants to see." He lifted his chin, daring Lysander to find fault with that.

He held the gaze for a moment, then finally reopened his book. "You are aware that Zoey does not know Hogsmeade is the Hogwarts standard for first dates, right?"

"She doesn't?" His face fell, then he bolstered his confidence. "So what if she doesn't? I'm just- I'm just giving a friend a tour, is all."

"Just thought you should know."

"Well, thanks." Albus huffed, but after Lysander continued to read in silence he felt compelled to continue the argument himself. "It- it's not like I wanted it to be a date! I was just trying to cheer her up! I wasn't _planning_ to ask her on a date yet-" he cut himself off with a small gasp, then gathered his stuff. "I- I've got homework too. Bye."

Lysander looked up and watched his friend's retreat with a smile, flipping the page of his book. "Liar Liar."

* * *

 _Thanks to Yami Umi for her review! You wanted a longer chapter- so here's my longest one yet, 7,588 words! :)_

 _-E_


	16. Ch 16 Parents Visit

**Ch. 16- Parents Visit**

* * *

"You should know your way around by now."

"Beg to differ-" Zoey was quick to counter, "with my remedial school work, it's a wonder I have time to know where to find my pillow."

Scorpius felt the corner of his mouth twitch in mild amusement, but just as soon it drooped into his usual small frown. "I'm aware." After the latest round of tests Zoey had done well in Herbology, Ancient Runes, Charms, and Astrology, surprisingly stellar in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures- but as inexplicably atrocious as ever in Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Transfigurations. Headmistress McGonagall, perhaps insulted her old subject transfiguration improved the least, had decided to double their tutoring hours when she got the report. Much to the frustration of the tutors in question. Scorpius hadn't known Rose's face could become the exact shade of her hair.

He kept losing more and more time for research. He should have had at least another hour in the library this Sunday morning, but instead he had to go straight from tutoring Zoey to the special lesson.

"Why is Hogwarts Castle such a labyrinth, anyways?" Her question pulled him out of his thoughts. "Moving stairs, trick doors, changing corridors- it's like the place doesn't want anybody to even make it to class. Do you think that was the point of it? I mean it's obviously intentional, after all-" she slid down the banister of a staircase, easily landing on her feet and waiting for Scorpius at the bottom. "-I could see a few of them happening on accident, but for them to be _everywhere_ the way they are? They're annoyingly random, sure, but they're too widespread to _all_ be spells gone wrong."

As Scorpius Malfoy descended the stairs with his usual perfect posture and decorum he easily avoided one of the exact 'tricks' she mentioned- a fake step that would give way to trap an unwary walker up to their thigh. For Zoey, he considered her tiny size from her stockings to her once-again blue hair, it probably would have trapped her to her hips. "You forget, Malam, that first and foremost a castle is built for battle. Those 'annoyances' you complain about are strategic."

"Oh?"

"Yes." He said with an air of certainty. "An invading force, even _if_ they managed to get through the magical defenses, will be at a distinct disadvantage in our halls. With the secret passages, rooms, and changing corridors, any attacking force would be easy to pick off with hit-and-run tactics, manageable against even larger scale of forces. Traps that the inhabitants know to avoid as easily as breathing will render opponents defenseless at critical moments, corridors behind tapestries will make for excellent getaways, and the moving stairs will serve as opportunities for escape as well."

"I see." Zoey brought a curled finger up to her lips as she walked, taking that in. "But why keep it this way? As a _school_ their main purpose nowadays is to make people late. Or lost," she added sullenly with an injured air.

Scorpius just looked at her for a moment, then named the obvious. "The Battle of Hogwarts was here."

"Oh yeah." Zoey said as though she actually had forgotten that existed. "So is that how they fought that battle?"

Her query turned his features neutral, a defensive and silent mask that Scorpius had long kept polished when anything pertaining to the Second War was brought up in his presence. The energy in his face dimmed and he withdrew a bit from the topic, in preparation for a pointed jab or remark that almost always came after a seemingly innocent comment.

This preparation was entirely mental- he knew none of it would show in his expression or posture. He _knew_ it. Scorpius Malfoy had schooled his features enough times in the mirror to know that nothing, _nothing_ of his reaction was visible to the eye.

And yet, barely a heartbeat later Zoey apologized. "Sorry. I know- sorry, you always get tense when that stuff comes up in tutoring; I shouldn't have- sorry." She was staring resolutely at her feet as she walked, her blue-and-black stockings clashing against the worn tiles.

"I do not." He informed in a monotone manner, looking ahead down the hallway.

She opened her mouth, obviously on the verge of protesting, but then Zoey showed an amazing amount of tact and nodded. "My bad." She uttered and left the topic as-was, trying to think of something else to say. Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of a familiar alcove. "Hey! Isn't that where we hid last year after I talked to the bust?"

"Yes." Zoey had such a weird way of referring to things. It was more than a bit annoying. He, for instance, would have chosen to call that incident last year 'nothing' and just not bring up the subject at all. It did remind Malfoy of something else, however. "What were you doing here, anyways?"

"As I remember, Malfoy, you grabbed my hand and dragged me in there to-"

"No," he cut her off before someone could overhear that and misunderstand. "I meant 'here' at Hogwarts."

"Oh. Negotiating my transfer for this year."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "Don't you mean 'arranging', Malam?"

"Do I? McGonagall wasn't too keen on having a transfer, let me tell you." Zoey chuckled, remembering the stress of it. "And with all the portraits in her office arguing over each other, it was a wonder we could hear ourselves think." She paused, tilted her head then opened her mouth-

"They're the previous Headmasters of Hogwarts, their opinions are instrumental to instruct people new to the position, and their portraits are a tribute of respect to the their work before they retired." Scorpius cut her off, answering every possible pertinent question he could think of. He smirked at her expression, pleased he'd been the one to catch her off guard for once. "That about cover it?"

Zoey blinked, her expression frozen with her green eyes staring into his silver ones. Then she smiled slowly. "Actually, I was only going to ask what're they going to do when they run out of wall for the pictures."

Scorpius felt his mind short circuit in an increasingly familiar manner and his left eye twitch. He was saved from responding, though, as they reached the Great Hall.

"Malfoy," Nott called out, walking up to them. "How did it go this morning?"

"Terrible." Zoey answered for him with a light laugh at herself, remembering the mouse she'd accidently transfigured royal purple instead of into a snuffbox like she had been trying to.

"He meant in the library," Scorpius corrected her, though his attention remained on his long-standing friend. "Though it could be classified under a similar adjective."

"Library?"

"We have a…" He met Nott's gaze, knowing that whatever word he chose would need to be unilateral as a cover story and close enough to the truth to be helpful. "... private research project. As a group."

"Can I help?"

They both stopped looking at each other to look at her in surprise, then Nott chuckled awkwardly. "Urm, no, we- we got it covered."

Zoey raised a brown eyebrow until it touched her electric-blue bangs. "You don't sound very convinced. What class is it for? Are you presenting it? When's it due?"

"It's private. We're done when we are satisfied, not a professor."

"Satisfied with what, exactly?"

"Our research."

"If it's not for a professor, then why are you researching?"

"Private project." Scorpius said without a trace of stubbornness, though there was something similar to it in his eye. As expected, she growled lightly at his circular responses. He could practically see Zoey preparing another round of rapid-fire questions in hopes of getting a straight answer when she drew in a breath, only to swirl around as her name was called.

"Zoey!"

"Al?" Zoey's response to Malfoy deflated and as she looked over her shoulder. "Oh hey. What's up?"

"Er, not much." Albus Potter slowed as he approached the group, his shoulders rising part of the way to his ears the closer he got. "Just, um, wanted to say hi, is all."

"And for that," Scorpius observed dryly, folding his arms. "It was necessary to yell across the foyer, interrupt our conversation, and rush over, 'Al'?"

Nott blinked mildly in surprise, but didn't comment.

"Well, um, 'hi' and- er- Zoey, would next Sunday work for you?"

She frowned lightly. "Work for what?"

"Hogs-" Albus was practically quivering under the penetrating stare of the two Slytherins. "...Honeydukes."

Malfoy felt his eyebrows rise.

Zoey made another sound effect at the back of her throat, the eager noise a kid might make when promised ice cream later. "Can't on Sunday, does Saturday work for you? After the Quidditch match?"

"Sure," Albus readily agreed with palpable relief, shifting from foot to foot. "So, um, the class is starting soon."

"We know that." Nott said mildly, making no move to leave from their current position.

"Wait-" Zoey looked at her watch, then scowled. "Crackers, I'm gonna be late to the greenhouses."

"Crackers?" Scorpius Malfoy repeated in mild entertainment.

"Oh bad bad bad- maybe I'll make it if I run-" Zoey muttered, turning to leave only to hesitate and point at the giant double-doors. "That _does_ go to the outside, and does _not_ dump the offense into a pit trap filled with snails and cockroaches, right?"

"Right."

"Good." Zoey sprinted off without another word.

"Snails and cockroaches. That," Nott smiled, an image of amusement and deviousness all at once. "Is actually a wonderful idea to keep on file. Think she's ever actually been subjected to it? It would be wonderful data."

"I doubt it," Scorpius's expression held less deviousity for once as he turned and started walking toward the Great Hall, "I'd wager she'd scream loud enough for it to echo for days."

"Any girl would…" He chuckled, the pair of them walking on either side of Albus and continuing the conversation as though he wasn't there at all.

For a few minutes Albus Potter could do nothing but stand and stare incredulously in front of him. Did Scorpius Malfoy just… smile?

* * *

"Think of a powerful memory- the happiest you can remember," Britain's Head of Aurors, Harry Potter, instructed a group of Hogwarts Students- feeling a distinct sense of deja-vu as he did. "Allow it to fill you up."

He watched groups practice with a keen eye, meeting Hermione's gaze too from time to time. They smiled at eachother. "Now," Harry continued, "I'm sure you're all eager to know what shape your patronus will take- but remember this is _very_ advanced wizardry. A full bodied patronus is not only difficult to cast, but it is not always necessary. Even a patronus shield can be equally useful against a variety of opponents."

Hermione corrected the wand movement from one of the students, smiling as she did. It occurred to her that, had life been different, Harry or even herself would have been wonderful teachers. She did enjoy passing on the wonders of knowledge.

"However-" the reminiscent moment was shattered as the Dark Arts Professor Sybble spoke up, her voice sweet in a way that almost reminded him of Umbridge. "Like any other spell it is only as strong as your attention span. So Miss Wilson, Miss Adams, I suggest you pay. Attention."

The girls in question started guiltily, turning back to their task instead of continuing to stare at _the_ Harry Potter with dreamy eyes. The hero figure himself wondered if all of Hogwarts' teachers could see through the back of their head like that to scare the skins off their students, or if that was limited to just Slytherin's Head of House.

As the lesson progressed, however, Harry found himself getting discouraged. This was nothing like the old D.A. meetings at all- there were far too many students to keep a proper eye on all of them, and there were many of them that couldn't produce even a wisp of a Patronus.

He found himself nostalgic for the Room of Requirement as well. The Great Hall, while certainly large enough to hold the assembly of Fourth to Seventh Year students, simply wasn't as perfect as the Room would have made itself.

"Like this, Dad?" James called from the opposite side of the Hall and cried " _Expecto Patronum!"_

"Not quite-" Professor Sybble stepped in, as she was the closest instructor to him. "Your wand movement is too big. You need to keep it much smaller, this spell is meant to be cast very quickly, lad. It doesn't need any sort of theatrics."

Scorpius Malfoy and his friends chortled in amusement at the last comment. The shorter of his friends made a big, exaggerated movement of his next casting then mock-bowed to the others, who pretended to swoon and applaud their amazement.

Hermione's lips pressed together at the sight and she met Harry's gaze, about to step in when Professor Sybble _again_ got there first.

"Mister Zambini, Mister Malfoy- since you seem keen to make a spectacle of yourselves, why don't you demonstrate how you're progressing?"

The boys immediately came to attention and nodded, Malfoy stepping up first. " _Expecto Patronum!"_ he said confidently, producing one of the better shields Harry had seen all day. It was certainly better than James's had been.

"Perfect casting." Sybble reported the same why she might say 'flobberworm mucus'. "Should have been better though." She looked Malfoy over for a moment, but to Harry's surprise didn't ask what memory he chose. "Zambini."

The other boy stepped forward at her direction and cast the spell, nowhere near as confident as Malfoy had been when he cried " _Expecto Patronum!"_ with a crack of adolescence in his voice. Still, to the shock and gasps of the onlookers, from his wand streamed a steady, strong shield.

"Good work." The Dark Arts Professor nodded, raising her voice "And this, students, is the difference a powerful memory can make with emotional magic such as this. Skill and technique will get you only so far- to make significant progress, you _must_ select something very important to you."

Zambini blushed and was very careful not to glance in the direction of the girls in his friend group until the color faded.

Sybble corrected some of the finer points on his casting technique, then moved on.

A few minutes later Hermione had worked her way back near Harry, where she whispered under her breath "Is it just me, or is Professor Sybble trying to teach over us?"

"A bit," Harry admitted with a distracted frown, gazing through the groups of students.

"What are you looking at, Harry?"

"Him." Hermione followed his gaze to look at the History of Magic Assistant, who was sitting against a wall and watching everyone with a discerning eye. "What was his name again?"

"Assistant Orion. Why?"

"There's something… off, about him." Harry frowned, not quite able to describe the feeling in his gut. Hermione might have taken that a bit more seriously if he hadn't continued with "He almost reminds me of Malfoy. Draco, I mean."

Hermione gave a longstanding sigh as she walked off to continue teaching. "Really, you and Ron…"

Albus noticed the focus of his father's attention with curiosity, elbowing Rose. "Hey- what do you think Dad wants with the Assistant?"

Rose looked nervous, shifting around and pulling at a ringlet of her hair. If she were still a kid, she'd be chewing on that strand the way she used to, Albus realized. He forgot his curiosity about the Assistant. "What'sa matter?"

"Just- just stress," she waved his worry off in much the same manner her mother just done to Harry Potter, wishing she could get rid of the knot in her stomach just as easily. James had made her _swear_ not to mention anything about Zoey and Orion to anyone since they shouldn't go around making accusations without proof, but Rose had never hid anything from her mom before and the guilt was practically eating her from the inside.

"...you can still trust me, you know." Albus said quietly, digging his toe into the ground. "Just cuz I'm mad at James doesn't mean you can't talk to me still."

Rose sighed disparagingly in her usual _how can you be this ignorant_ kind of way. "Albus, I can't really talk to you about anything if you won't talk back."

"James." Albus protested mildly, fiddling with his wand. "I won't talk to James."

"And that means you really haven't talked to any of us, doesn't it?" Rose pointed out, "When was the last time you talked to anyone at Gryffindor table? You _haven't,_ all year long! You keep running off at every opportunity, usually all the way to Ravenclaw table, and when you are around all you do is pout!"

"But James-"

"Forget James," Rose huffed, "it was just another one of his pranks. You don't need to make such a big fuss of it."

Albus, to her surprise, set his jaw and straightened his spine, looking at her sternly. "That was not a 'prank', Rose, and you know it. James stopped 'pranking' a while ago. He's been targeting Malfoy and his friends maliciously. I would have thought _you,_ at least, would find offence in that."

Rose opened her mouth, then closed it, properly abashed. "I forgot you knew," she admitted quietly, scratching her nose.

"Pretty hard to forget," Albus retorted, slowly relaxing into the cheery personality Rose was more used to. After a moment he asked bluntly "How much do you like him, exactly?"

She choked midway through casting patronus, looking at him in shock. "What- why do you want to know?"

Albus shrugged, fiddling with his wand again. "Because…" Suddenly his throat was incredibly dry, making him rush his words at the end. "Because… I think he, maybe, isstartintolikeZoey?"

Rose stared at him for a moment. "Say that again?"

"He- you know," he wasn't sure if he _could_ , he was so embarrassed by the subject. "They were… talking to each other, and… Malfoy was _smiling._ "

"You say that like it's unusual."

"Rose, Malfoy doesn't 'smile', he smirks. I can count the number of times I've seen him smile on one hand." He held up just his pointer finger. "Once. This morning. Because of Zoey."

The words sent an uncomfortable jolt through her, and Rose's next attempt at the spell was distinctly diminished. "I'm sure he was just laughing at something stupid she did."

"She's not stupid," Albus defended immediately, "And anyways, I don't think Malfoy would laugh at something like that-"

"Please. Everyone laughs at Zoey. She's like you- too much of a kid for her own good."

A cold silence met her announcement, and a sort of dread filled up inside her as Rose realized exactly what she'd said. She faced Albus properly for the first time in the conversation, expecting to find him staring at the ground and stifling tears, or even a serious anger like earlier… instead, his was meeting her gaze, his shoulders slumped.

"I just wanted to tell you," he informed her after a moment of silence, "because I don't want your feelings to get hurt."

As he turned his back on Rose she was hit with a fresh stab of guilt. "Albus. Al…"

But he didn't look at her for the rest of the day. Somehow, Rose realized, his disappointment bothered her more than his anger would.

* * *

Now that had been amusing, Jonovan Malam Orion smiled as he walked through the halls of Hogwarts, Rasputin on his shoulder. An entire hall of students, lead by two of the most famous and supposedly most powerful spellcasters in the wizarding world- and not a single pupil had managed the final stage of the spell. There was already talk about the pair coming back to teach a second lesson.

His fingers stilled as he remembered the raw strength of the stag and otter Patronuses that the instructors had produced for demonstration. A truly fearsome feat; he supposed there was no real surprise that a group of young teenagers would be unable to perform it.

A happy memory, Harry Potter had said. Jon lifted a hand in front of him and concentrated, thinking back for one. As he did he felt his magic rising up inside him like a geyser, ready to heed his command. A memory of something important, he amended as he remembered Professor Sybble's words.

The decision was quick and simple to make; and as soon as it did, pale, silvery mist started to rise out of his fingertips like smoke from a candle. Jon smiled and put more effort into his magic, a shield rising from his hands like a dome. It was easily stronger than any student had managed after a day of 'special' teaching.

He was preparing to make an attempt at casting a full patronus when Rasputin puffed his spikes against his master's neck, just enough to poke the sensitive skin but not pierce it.

Jon heeded his familiar's warning and immediately canceled his magic, looking around. He was no longer alone in the hall; a boy, one of the many redheads, was walking up behind him.

"Orion." The boy called out, walking as though the century-old school was his to do with as he pleased.

That was rather casual. Jon narrowed his gaze as he went through his memory to find the name of the person before him. An eldest sibling, with a younger brother and sister. Generally didn't pay attention in any of his History classes, close friends with two of the other redheads, and pegged as a general troublemaker by the entire teaching staff- and in own his class, the boy was certainly far from a positive influence.

Rasputin hissed softly at the boy as Jon turned. "Mister James. Did you have a question for me?"

James Sirius Potter smiled as he approached, humming lightly. "No. I don't."

"Then a comment? Or concern, perhaps?" Jon prompted, because the sooner he addressed the conversation this kid apparently wanted the sooner he could get back to his practice. He scratched Rasputin in absentmindedly once more.

"No." He said again, walking up to look at him.

Jon stood patiently while he was being sized up, then said dryly "Just enjoying the view, then?"

James started in surprise, then smiled. "No, but I do know a girl who does."

"Instruct her to join my fan club." Jon said dismissively. "I have no interest in a romantic relationship at the moment, particularly not one with a student."

"That so?"

Rasputin hissed louder at the doubt in the boy's voice, his claws digging into Jon's shoulder.

"Yes. It is." Jon reached up to scratch behind Raz's ear in an attempt to calm him down.

"Why?"

He stopped petting his murtlap familiar, a silver gleam in his eye as he said simply. "Family." Rasputin pricked him again to remind him to settle his magic in front of the boy, and Jon did, pinning Jon with a glare. "So however 'pretty' this girl is for you to think that I'll change my mind- _you_ date her."

"But I- she- you…." James couldn't seem to find the right word to say, completely caught off guard. His idea to startle the history professor into revealing something incriminating had fallen dead in the water.

The Assistant smiled pleasantly at his pupil. "Good day, Mister James."

Rasputin grinned a toothy smile of triumph at the boy, turning on his master's shoulder as they continued walking down the hall.

"That- I- I know your secret!" James cried out, his face growing red. He took a step toward the leaving professor, then stopped as he caught sight of a large group of students coming down the hall. Glancing between the two, James turned and walked the opposite direction from Orion.

The murtlap was obviously pleased by that decision.

 _Oh the poor boy,_ Jon smiled pityingly as he turned the corner and ignored the feebly cry of the defeated. Once more Jon called up his magic, the silvery mists of a patronus engulfing him without the aid of a wand as his brown eyes and the beady ones of his familiar glowed a matching green... _He really had no idea._

* * *

Melissa Goyle decided that, for her next extra-credit session in the greenhouses, she desperately needed to attain a set of earplugs. Not for the Mandrakes, mind, but for the endless questions.

"How is a poltergeist made, anyways?" Zoey asked as she carried a bag of fertilizer on her shoulder. "I mean, ghosts obviously come from people, but they're so different. Peeves can touch stuff _and_ go through stuff, but ghosts don't have a choice. And he can make noise, too. Other than moaning, ghosts don't speak. So are muggles right about poltergeists coming from the emotions of unstable teenage girls? Because if that were true there'd be a few hundred in Hogwarts by now."

She grinned, obviously expecting Melissa to laugh at the idea herself. "Ghosts can speak, Malam." Melissa corrected her and was rewarded with a few moments of blessed silence. "Professor Binns?

Then, of course, Zoey's mind started working again. "Reeeeally?" she said at an octave higher, obviously excited by the new information as she brought a curled finger up to lips. "That's amazing! Oooh I thought Binns was just an exception somehow- this is amazing! Can you imagine how much they've got to say? I wonder _how_ they talk- they don't have lungs, after all. Well I suppose they _do,_ same way they have arms, but they don't have proper lungs, know what I mean? Do you think they use magic for it somehow? Are they confined to where they die- ooh, maybe Malfoy was right, that'd be a lot of murders in Hogwarts. Or do they just stay here because wizards won't call in a priest to exorcise them or something silly? Could they go out and haunt Hogsmeade? Or do you suppose-"

Melissa sighed and lowered the bag of fertilizer she'd been carrying, opening it. Even the stench of dragondung was a welcome distraction from Zoey's yammering that persisted no matter how she tried to tune it out. Earplugs, she reminded herself firmly as she set fresh soil around the benign plants. If she had to endure yet another full day of Zoey Malam she'd rather the failing grade. "Is this important?"

"-why they're so cold all the-" Zoey immediately stopped mid-sentence, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Sorry, did I get carried away?"

"Just a bit," Melissa hissed, not looking up from her work.

"Sorry." Zoey apologized, focusing on the plants herself. After a few minutes, though, she started to hum and bob her head to a song that was apparently stuck in her head.

Ooooh Melissa could have strangled her. She might have been more tempted, if she hadn't heard Professor Longbottom's voice coming their way. It wouldn't do for her to commit murder with a witness.

Professor Longbottom had company- one of whom was Hagrid, judging by the silhouette he cast on the windows. He opened the door to the greenhouse. "Miss Malam, could you come out here for a moment?"

"Coming!" Zoey called out, making her way to the front of the greenhouse. When the door closed Melissa gave a sigh of relief. Silence at last.

Zoey took care not to slam the glass door behind her, turning when she was done. "Did you need something, si-irrr…." her voice trailed off as she stared at the group, leaving her hand on the knob as her eyes went wide.

"Ter she is!" Rubeus Hagrid beamed, patting her on the shoulder with a giant hand. "Told yer she'd be here!"

Harry and Hermione watched her jolt under the force of his strength with a considerable amount of empathy. "Thank you, Hagrid." Harry answered, but was interrupted before he could continue.

"She doers grea' in class, lemme tell yer! Haven' had a pupil this good since yer three!" He thumped her a few more times, as though his excitement simply couldn't be expressed any other way. "Ne'er known no one as good with thestrals!"

"Thestrals?" Hermione repeated with a note of dismay. "Hagrid, I thought you took that out of the curriculum. The Ministry still has them classified as dangerous."

"Er, well, I figure' it couldn' hur' to show 'em, so they know what ter look ou' for."

"Hagrid," Neville Longbottom smiled with amusement and sadness, "Most people can't 'look out' for thestrals. That's the point of them."

"Righ'," the big man said, deflating a bit, then cheering up. "We moved ter hippogriffs instead, but Zoey here asked ter keep helpin' me wit te herd! She's doin' grea'!"

With the last word Hagrid slapped Zoey's back hard enough to make her stagger, her grip on the doorknob the only thing stopping her from falling to her knees. She caught her balance and stood up again, seeming to come out of a trance as she looked at the four of them. "You… you're…" Zoey was still blinking in absolute shock, staring at the group. Her eyes jumped from Harry's scar to Hermione's bushy hair, and even to the faint scar across Neville's face from his Seventh Year at Hogwarts with the Carrows. "You're…"

She's completely starstruck, Harry thought with resignation. It was something that he'd learned to deal with over the years. However, it wasn't him who'd wanted to talk to this student.

"I'm Mrs. Weasley," Hermione smiled, holding out her hand. "Hugo's Mum."

"Oh. Oh hi-" Zoey made to take her hand, then stopped and hurriedly pulled off the dragonhide gloves she'd been using in the greenhouse. "Hi." she said weakly as she shook it, looking like she'd want nothing more than to not be the focus of attention at this moment.

Harry could strongly sympathise with that. "I'm sure you know why she's here," he said in an attempt to calm her nerves.

It didn't work. "I- I do?"

Before Zoey could respond beyond that she was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, her face pressed into the curls of Hermoine Weasley's hair. "Thank you for saving him."

Zoey stiffened considerably before she remembered- the kelpie thing, on the way to the Sorting Ceremony. It didn't make her any less nervous, but she did return the embrace, patting Mrs. Weasley's back.

"How did it happen?" Harry asked, still lost on the true story. He'd mostly only heard Hermione's panic over a telephone, and even that had been interrupted by tears of interchanging terror and relief.

"Harry," Hermione chided, "I'm sure she doesn't want to relive it!"

"Actually, ma'am," Zoey's voice was a bit muffled by Mrs. Weasley's thick hair, "Tristan did most of it. All I really did was get bit."

"Who?"

"Where?"

"He's a merman of the lake," Zoey answered Harry as she pulled back her right sleeve in response to the other question. The scabs from the wound had healed long ago, but there were still some faded red lines where the gaps had been thickest. Healer Prin had given her an ointment to rub into it every day to avoid scarring. "He saved me and Hugo."

Hermione was in full-out mother mode as she released Zoey just to fret over the old wound. "That must have hurt."

"Yes." Zoey nodded, used to people gawking over it. A lot of her classmates asked to see it on a frequent basis. When Mrs. Weasley's fingers hesitated over her charm bracelet, though, Zoey pulled it from her grasp and put her hand over it protectively.

Hermione Weasley's face had become very tense. "Those are… interesting charms, you have."

Zoey clenched her hands tighter for a moment, backing subtly until she felt the door at her back.

"Interesting how?" Harry asked, trying to get a look at them but not able to.

Hermione pressed her lips together as she looked at Zoey, pressuring her into telling.

"...Weapons." Zoey answered, with an air of someone giving in to the inevitable. "They're weapons. My mom gave them to me."

Harry and Neville exchanged a look. "How… nice?"

"It's for defense."

Even Hermione looked surprise at that, eyeing the innocuous silver bracelet. "How?"

Zoey looked at them distrustfully, then unclipped one of the charms. A moment later it grew in her hand, larger and larger until she was holding a full-length staff in her grip. One side of it was weighted slightly so that it could be spun easily.

"Oh!" Hermione said in appreciation. "Oh that's wonderful, how is it done?"

"Don't know. Mom made them- they're lighter when they're small, and nothing I know of has managed to damage any of them." She pulled the staff back from Harry's hand before he could hold it, her expression guarded again. Before he could ask to have it she touched the small loop at the top of the shaft to her bracelet, the staff shrinking until it was back to being no bigger than a thumbnail. Zoey quickly attached it to its hook before she dropped it, the way she had dropped the dagger in the lake. "It's best for surprise- that's why mom put a Notice-Me-Not charm on it."

Professor Longbottom looked impressed. "Defense' indeed."

"It's best for surprise- that's why mom put a Notice-Me-Not charm on it." One that seemed to be fading after many years. She made a note to herself to tell Jon about it.

"She must be a wonderful witch," Hermione said appreciatively, thinking over the many spells that must have gone into its creation.

Zoethia Malam looked away from them, silent for a moment. "She was."

All the adults looked at each other uncomfortably at her tone of voice. It was unbearably familiar- and suddenly Hermione realized the obvious, that for Zoey to help Hagrid with his herd of thestrals, she must be able to see them.

And to be able to see a thestral, the girl must have seen somebody die.

Suddenly her possessive behavior over the bracelet made a lot more sense.

Hagrid alone seemed immune to the mood that had saturated the silence. "Yer gonta be a good witch yerself, mind." He patted her back again, once more making her stagger.

Harry stepped in, thinking Hermione might need a bit of help after her faux pas. "I'm not sure if you know, but Hugo's also my nephew. If you ever need help, feel free to owl us."

"Thank you." Zoey said with perfect politeness, but still touched her charms again even as she said it. She'd much rather help herself.

* * *

"Oh mine too! Mine too, please? Please? For my mum?"

Albus Severus Potter sighed and took yet _another_ chocolate frog card from the crowd surrounding him, signing it quickly and already walking off even as he handed it back to the girl that'd asked for it.

"Oh and mine!"

"One more?"

"For my cousin, _please_?"

Albus ran a hand through his messy black hair, feeling like he was caught inside a herd of jackals and not a gaggle of admittedly attractive girls. As he signed the next few- still walking as he did- he almost wished that the patronus lesson never happened. It seemed to have rekindled the school's awe of the Legacy Children and he, as ever, was for some reason receiving the worst of it.

The image of his father as a young man smiled at him from the card he was signing, but ran off as soon as another fangirl squealed. Albus wished he had his own escape just as easily, but he knew he'd have to work a bit harder to regain his freedom. He had to resist temptation to put his fingers in his ears, still making steady progress to his salvation until-

"Bathroom!" He declared with desperation and more than a touch of relief, "I need to use the bathroom!"

There was a chorus of awws at different high pitches, but Albus readily ignored them as he made his way toward probably the one place that the girls wouldn't follow him. He hoped.

"Now, now there's no need to- you don't have to stay at the door like this, I'll just- I'll be in the Great Hall later, yeah?" As he closed the door behind him Albus caught sight of James standing at the back of the crowd, glaring at his younger brother. Then he rolled his neck as though preparing for a fight and reached up to muss his red hair, his round glasses already slightly askew.

"Ladies!" He called with a bright smile, finally gaining their undivided attention as he'd been trying to. "Why don't I escort you to the Great Hall, where we can wait for Severus together?"

"Severus?" One of the girls asked, even as a large group of them readily followed James away.

"Oh, that's his middle name," James said without so much as a glance over his shoulder, though his voice carried perfectly well. "I've been calling him that lately. It's a brotherly thing."

His face growing red, Albus closed the door and quickly pulled out his Invisibility Cloak with rapid, angry motions. Just when he'd been considering that Rose might be right about overreacting, James goes and pulls a stunt like that.

Malfoy was right, Albus decided as he snuck out of the bathroom under the safety of the cloak to avoid being seen by the few girls that had stayed to wait instead of following James. His brother was way more conceited than was right or even socially acceptable, and Albus was not going to talk to him again until he realized that.

He just hoped that Rose would take his advice about Zoey, because if Malfoy- the smart, capable, attractive Malfoy- became serious about liking the transfer… Albus wasn't sure he could compete.

* * *

 _Thanks for the reviews! They make my day; glad that Zoey's getting a good response! Thank you Lucy!_

 _And sorry Yami Umi, my bad. Ever heard of the 50-50-80 rule? It goes like this- if you have a 50-50 chance to guess something, 80% of the time you pick wrong. xP I've also read some animes where Umi was the name of a female character, so that's probably why I got it wrong this time. Glad you liked awkward Albus, he is only 14 after all. Not much romance experience._

 _-E_


	17. Ch 17 Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff

**Ch. 17- Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff**

* * *

Ravenclaw Tower was a place of decorum. It was a place for focus, concentration, learning, diligence. It was a place for private learning experiments and relaxation and recuperating from the many annoyances of dealing with the inferior intellects of the other Houses all day long.

It most certainly was _not_ a place for a party.

But nobody had taken the time to tell that to Zoey Malam.

The transfer student had decorated their common area with a fervor, putting up fake cobwebs and bubbling cauldrons, filling the room with some kind of mist, ruining the tower's innocuous peace. She had music blasting through the room, too, so there was no quiet. There was color-changing lights pointing at little tissue ghosts that hung from the ceiling, making concentration difficult, and a table full of colored masks.

The biggest change though was the circle of tables between the center fireplace and the rest of the room. There were four or five pumpkins on each table, a few aprons, and sets of extremely sharp looking knives. There were also a mounds of pumpkins pressed against bookshelves and taking up a few couches, easily enough for every Ravenclaw to carve at least two each for the holiday. A number of students had already started.

Lysander Scamander, as had many of his housemates before him, stopped dead at the sight of his common room when he returned to it, finding it almost more orange than the standard blue or bronze. There were plastic sheets over the carpet to catch pumpkin guts and, he sniffed a bit, the _smoke_ tasted like pumpkin. He wondered if it was from the _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ Vroom Broom package.

"Sandy!" Zoey cried, waving at him from the table where she was working. Her hair was a more vibrant orange as the pumpkin she was carving.

Lysander rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but had to admit the nickname was starting to grow on him- more like a leech he couldn't pull out rather than affection, but growing nonetheless. He took off his shoes and left them in the pile by the door, giving the tables a wide girth as he moved to stand behind Zoey. "I take it you enjoy Halloween, then?"

"I love Halloween!" Zoey grinned, getting down from the stepping stool she'd been using to carve her pumpkin easier. "Doesn't everyone?"

"It's kind of hard not to," Lysander pointed out, remembering that was her response to his question months ago about whether she was a quidditch fan. In wizarding society, he supposed, quidditch and Halloween was mandatory.

"Is there a pumpkin carving contest? I got us some just in case- you should make one, Sandy. Micheal!" She suddenly scolded down the table in a tone too serious for the situation. "No magic, you know that!"

The boy in question jumped in shock, then smiled abashedly as he put his wand away and gingerly picked up one of the large knives. Zoey looked at him warningly a few more seconds, then she turned back to Lysander with a smile. It figured that Zoey Malam would get so serious about celebrating a Holiday properly.

"Do wizards celebrate differently than muggles? What's your version of Halloween?" She drew in a hissing breath. "Ooooh is there going to be a party?"

Quite a few of the onlookers in Ravenclaw Tower smiled, her enthusiasm catching on. A few more people picked up aprons and started selecting pumpkins.

"Yes, there is a celebration." Lysander answered with the sinking feeling he was going to carve a pumpkin whether he really wanted to or not. "An official feast."

Zoey hadn't seemed to hear anything past the word 'celebration', literally jumping and spinning with excitement. "Perfect!" Quite a few people leaned away from the knife she was holding.

Lysander took it from her hands before she lost her grip on it and sent it flying into an eye or something, a sincere possibility since her were arms gooey up to her elbows with pumpkin guts. "What is this music, anyways? What is a …" he paused for a moment to listen. "A 'Monster Mash'?"

Zoey, and to his shock a few scattered people around the room, laughed with amusement. "Muggles imagine that werewolves and vampires and ghouls and ghosties and all the magical things get together for a big party on Halloween, so they wrote a song about it. It's _tradition,_ I refuse to go beyond October 31st without re-memorizing every word."

"It's the twenty-fifth," Lysander said with that sinking feeling of dread once again.

"Yup!" She grinned, stepping up onto the stool to get back to work on her carving. "Six more days to go!"

* * *

"I don't understand," Roxanne Weasley hissed at her cousin in confusion as they got dressed in scarlet uniforms for their quidditch match, "Why do I have to ask him for it?"

Rose pulled at a strand of her hair nervously. Between the sounds of hundreds of students taking their places in the stands around them and the conversations of their teammates, it was practically a private conversation. Still, she kept her voice at a whisper just in case. "Because- well- if I asked I would have to explain what I want it for. If you do it, it's already pretty obvious."

"U-huh. James might buy that excuse, but not me." She folded her arms. "Spill. Are you two fighting or something?"

"Or something." Rose flushed uncomfortably, using her shoelaces as an excuse not to face her as she admitted "I kind of… might have… calledhimakidandsaidpeoplelaughathim."

Roxanne blinked and stared for all of about five seconds, then screeched " _What!?"_

"Shhhhh!" Rose put her hands over her cousin's mouth, smiling apologetically at their teammates. She hurriedly pulled Rox toward a corner of the locker room, hoping that nobody told James about what could be seen as pre-game drama. He detested that from his players.

"How could- why did- what were you _thinking?_ " Roxanne stuttered, yanking the hands off her mouth. "You know he hates it when people call him a kid!"

"I _wasn't!"_ Rose confessed, pulling at her hair again. "I was distracted and was talking about Zoey and-"

"Zoey? Wait wait wait- did you tell him what we know?"

"No! Al was being ridiculous and saying that Malfoy liked her, or something, just because the snake _apparently_ laughed when she did one of her ridiculous stunts, so I said he was just laughing _at_ her the way people do to him- or something like that…"

Under Rox's cold, piercing stare Rose turned a mortified red. Her words sounded even worse when she tried to explain them. Only after a few more minutes of silent shaming did her cousin speak again. "How much did he cry?"

"Weirdest thing," Rose murmured with a trace of awe. "He _didn't._ He just looked at me, then gave me a cold shoulder."

"...weird." Roxanne agreed, knowing that though nobody ever said it Albus Potter was indeed the crybaby of the Legacies, then she shrugged. "Well, if he didn't cry then he can't be all that upset about it."

Privately Rose disagreed, remembering the disappointment in his gaze, but she didn't share the notion.

Roxanne hummed distractedly, looking over a layout of their team's plays but doing a valiant job of trying to maintain the conversation even as she was obviously trying to get focused on the game. "Don't think you can avoid talking to him forever, Rose. You are in the same year. And House. And _family…_ "

"I get it, Rox."

"Not to mention best friends."

"...Right." Rose said sadly, but knew that wasn't quite true anymore. Ever since Albus started distancing himself from the Gryffindors of the family he'd been shunning her too, and without him putting a stop to the silly stalemate with James she couldn't see how they could become friends the way they used to be. Merlin, she realized with a trace of awe, he wasn't even bugging her to help him with his schoolwork lately; how was he keeping up with any of his classes?

While Rose forlornly stewed in the repercussions of her mistake Roxanne picked up her bat and pulled her along for them to listen to James's pre-game speech. He took his duty as Quidditch Captain very seriously- much more seriously than any of his homework.

"Right," He said, looking at them like a drill sergeant. "Right, so- this is our first match of the year. Our victory will set the stage for us to launch the season. We're the best of the best- we _will_ win the Quidditch Cup, and the best way to do that is to get as much of a lead as we can in our first game!"

"But it's a scrimmage," Evan, their Keeper, protested mildly. "It won't count for the cup."

"We're still going to treat this like a real game, and dominate the field today. Evan, your job is to stop them from getting any goals through the hoop. Adam, Melody, Ivaan," James looked at their three chasers, "score as much as you can to add to my lead when I catch the snitch. Rox, Edward, keep those damn bludgers out of our faces and in theirs. I don't want anybody getting injured in the time it takes for me to end the game."

"Thank you, James," Eddy, Roxanne's co-beater, said dryly, "For that wonderful summary of how to play quidditch." There was a light round of chuckles, to James's obvious displeasure, and he ushered his players to the field. The entire team walked up to their platform, and the Gryffindor house cheered for them.

Rose much preferred the game pitch to the practice one; it had been built eleven years ago to replace the once her parents had played on in their days at school. With two fields it was now possible for multiple teams to practice at a time, though the new one had much better seating and new raised platforms behind the hoops for the substitutes to wait on.

The necessity to keep an area for reserve players had arisen shortly after the Golden Trio had left Hogwarts at the end of the Second Wizarding War. Sarah Thomas, Hufflepuff Team Captain, had decided to use a well-worn and well-proven muggle strategy of having twice as many players on her team than could actually play on the field. Her magical teammates thought she was mental, but over her three years of captainship the result of her work was undebatable. Having a full set of opponents for practicing against as well as skilled members to fall back on when her players suffered from bludger attacks mid-season or foul play before a game (work of the Slytherins, no doubt) had helped her win the Quidditch Cup three years in a row. The other Captains had scrambled to match her strategy, and the overall quality of Quidditch Games at Hogwarts had improved as a result.

Though the reserves couldn't actually substitute mid-game according to the rules of quidditch- unless there was extremely mitigating circumstances and the captain of _both_ teams agreed to it- the special platform was their recognition for their effort through the season. They settled down in their seats to watch the game from a viewpoint only second to the Faculty Box.

From a crowd perspective, people were more interested in the new cushioning spells of the Game Pitch and the weather charm- a recent invention by their very own Professor Padma, Head of Ravenclaw House- that would keep the environment around the viewing seats pleasant no matter what temperature or weather the players were subjected to. Rose knew she would be very jealous of that later in the season, as winter snows came and they played their finals in pouring April showers.

While James waved to the crowd Rose pulled Roxanne's sleeve. "So- about the Cloak-"

"Not now," her cousin chided as she mounted her broom for the match. "This is not the time to worry about plans, Rosie. I have a match to win."

She flew off, leaving Rose alone to worry. If she couldn't convince Rox to get the Invisibility Cloak, she would be the one that had to get it from Albus by Halloween night.

* * *

"J- Orion? Sir?" Zoey had to catch herself as she looked around the door to Jon's office, relieved to find it empty. Of all the little things to get caught doing that she wasn't supposed to be, calling Jonovan Malam Orion by his first name was probably one of the least problematic things but also the hardest habit for her to break.

She took another glance around the old office and amended her earlier thought- Jon's office was empty of people. Razputin was glaring moodily at her from his cage, still drying out from his bath. Zoey stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh stop looking at me like that, Raz. You practically live in mud, you have to take a bath at least every other week."

He just hissed and scratched at the door to his cage.

Zoey checked all four of the locks on the door to make sure he wouldn't escape and go find a mud hole. She hadn't suffered his spikes for an hour and put up with his moodiness for him to scurry off into literal mess by the end of the day.

Two of the them were open. She shook her head in amazement and relocked them, which earned her another hiss. "Escape artist." She accused with less fondness than usual before walking around Jon's desk, to the wall behind it.

She put her hand on the wall and closed her eyes, focusing. The brick beneath her palm heated and glowed like an ember, twitching a bit with distaste at what she was doing. Zoey immediately pulled back her magic a touch, knowing she'd been overeager to let it loose.

Her entire consciousness gathered on her fingers, feeling the enchantment in the stone. It tasted of layers of dust, old things and lost times. It held the memory of dozen, hundreds of people through the ages- and with a little touch Zoey was able to make those old images strengthen and mix into eachother until they merged and were so layered the enchantment it would open to anybody.

The surface of the bricks rippled from her palm like a it was a pebble on the surface of a pond, and they shifted and molded into a door the same make and style as the one into the office. The old rusted knob turned itself and opened inward to allow her entrance that no student was supposed to be granted.

Zoey lowered her left hand and shook it to get rid of the prickling sensation in her skin. She had no real idea how she was able to open an enchantment that was supposedly only detectable by the faculty and only manipulated by the Hogwarts Headmasters themselves, but she had long ago decided that it was useful anyways.

Besides, she shrugged as she stepped into the personal living quarters of the History of Magic Professor without hesitation, wizards didn't really seem to fully understand their relationship to magic either. Channeling their magic through sticks and dead animal bits somehow worked, she admitted, but when not one wandmaker had never explained why a rock or a leaf could conceptually work just as well, it showed that they didn't really understand it themselves.

Magic really wasn't meant to be logical, anyways.

Zoey paused and looked around, pursing her lips. "Now, if I was an annoying know it all who was more paranoid than a shrew, where would I put my Halloween stash?"

"Oh I don't know," Jon's voice answered out of seemingly nowhere, "Probably right next to my secret diary."

Zoey stopped immediately and listened harder until a sound soft and quiet as a mosquito made itself apparent. She turned and walked toward it at a corner of the room, reached forward until her hands felt something solid, then poked it.

Jonovan "umphed" as she prodded his stomach and dropped his invisibility, folding his arms. "Any reason you're craving candy, Zoe?"

"Um, Halloween? Trick Or Treat Time?" She said like it was obvious, but there was something in her eyes that Jon found easy to spot. More like a lack of a something, but he saw it all the same.

"Is that all?" He pushed in an inviting tone, wondering as always why she got so moody shortly before Halloween.

"No." Zoey told him and her jaw clenched, then she spun on the spot to inspect his bedroom for the aforementioned candy stash. "I'm going to a candy store in Hogsmeade after the match, and it's put me in the mood."

"Hogsmeade?" Jon raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't interested in going on your own to someplace new with inflated prices and places to get lost in?"

"I'm going with someone." Zoey said absentmindedly, her hopes rising and falling as she rummaged through his stuff. She picked up a box hidden under his bed, only to groan with disappointment as she recognized various computer parts. "Really? You're still going for this?"

"Yes." He ended the subject with ease so she couldn't distract him. "You're going 'with' someone to Hogsmeade? Is it a boy?" At her nod he felt his eyes narrow in suspicion. Zoey may be oblivious to the connotations of going to Hogsmeade as a pair with an opposite gender, but Jon certainly wasn't. "How well do you know him?"

"Hm? Oh, Albus is really sweet. He's gonna give me a tour of the place; his uncle owns one of the shops."

"Albus…?"

"Potter."

He searched his mind quickly and was calmed by what he found. Albus Potter. Middle child of three siblings. Same age as Zoey, sorted into the Gryffindors. Another one of the apparently many famous children here in Hogwarts but probably the one who was least affected on levels of egotism and neediness. Unlike his older brother- Jon searched his memory again for the name- James Potter, Albus did not have a questionable reputation of being a ladies man and if anything was seen as a sweet and kind person by the general student body.

From his own interactions with Albus, Jon realized boy's demeanor greatly reminded him of Zoey. He grudgingly admitted he didn't have much of a reason to try banning her from the trip.

Eventually Zoey gave up on her candy hunt and sat back on his bed with a huff, swinging her legs. Jon's room technically belonged the Professor Binns- but since he was a ghost with no actual need for the place while his very alive Assistant did, McGonagall had reassigned it to Orion. The furnishings hadn't been upgraded since probably around the 16th century, when things like legged wardrobes and chests a-la-pirate had been the popular storage means.

The bathroom hadn't even had a shower before the summer, something that had made Zoey laugh in amusement. The outdated faculty living quarters was a stark contrast to its primary occupant, who was as far of a forward-thinker as someone could possibly be.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she felt Jon's hand atop her head, and it took her a few minutes to realize what was happening. "Wait-" she jumped up and away on the cushion, frowning when she saw that her hair was once a new color, from a festive pumpkin orange to a turquoise blue-green. "You Jerk! I was trying to let it fade to natural!"

He held up his hands in defense and easily dodged the blow, frowning a bit. "What for? I thought you were cool with it."

Zoey picked up his pillow and threw it at him next. "Idiot! How do you think it would look for Elphaba to have hair like this? I'll be a green smurf!"

"Oooh is that the problem?" Jon grinned, letting the harmless projectile hit him, knowing his apathy to her actions would only irritate her more. "Why don't you just change it back then? Or, you know, let me do the skin."

Zoey growled under her breath and held a strand of hair in front of her eyes, focusing her magic on it. Try as she might though she knew she wouldn't be able to change her appearance with the ease of her friend; somehow, he just didn't seem to have the same limits on his powers that were on hers. After a minute she pulled it back into her usual ponytail, out of sight except for a pair of bangs that framed her face. "Maybe I should waste my time on hair colors instead of tutoring."

"Excuse you?" Jon intervened, unused to her saying something so pessimistic.

"You know, the tutoring sessions _you_ presented to McGonagall using _my_ name and _my_ handwriting, so when she did me the 'favor' of mandating it to two of the more notable and watched students in school, I had to smile and say 'oh thank you, ma'am' because the alternative was telling her her newest faculty member had a habit of deception!"

Her words hung in the silence for a while, the topic once again driving them to tension. Jon was obviously not intending to apologize or regret his action ever, let alone anytime soon, and Zoey knew him too well to honestly expect him to. It had been a very poor attempt to dissuade the conversation, and Jon was having none of that. She groaned and set her face in her hands after a moment, shoulders slumping.

"I'm useless, okay? I can barely get the wand to do anything, let alone perform a single spell. One of my tutors thinks I'm incredibly gullible and the other practically has a conniption because of my 'complete, total idiocy' by the end of every session." Zoey was a cheerful person, but having Rose's disparaging words and Scorpius's looks of uncomprehending disappointment brandished at her for hours every week with no end in sight would have anyone in the dumps.

Jon's gaze darkened and his jaw clenched. "Which one?"

"Nope." Zoey sighed, knowing which one he was upset about. Jon quite openly believed her to be and called her 'gullible' quite frequently; she denied it of course, but then again she supposed that could be part of what made him right. "Never telling."

Jon tapped his fingers for a moment, then reached forward for her head again.

Predictably, Zoey squeaked and gripped his hand with both of hers to stop its progression. "Hey! What did I just-"

"Tell me. Or 'Elphaba' will have hair bubblegum pink."

"You can't- no! No no bad! Bad Jon!" Zoey barely ducked in time to avoid his attempt to catch her with his other hand and rolled off the bed, glaring at him. "Not telling."

"Bright pink. With polkadots on her skin."

She paled as she pictured the threat. "That is an insult to a Broadway character."

"She's older than Broadway. And I don't think she would completely reject zebra stripes, do you?"

Zoey stuck her tongue out at him, knowing he had the complete and total upper hand. "Fine. I'll tell you."

He raised an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"...After Halloween."

"Deal." He grunted approval of her stipulation. Now she could be relatively sure that she was safe from further blackmail related to her 'Elphaba' appearance.

Zoey was now on high alert to his presence and checking the time for her 'date', though Jon doubted she actually thought of it as that. He had work to do anyways and was about to wave her out the door when he was stuck with something. "Do you have money for the shops?"

She looked away uncomfortably and pulled a few sickles out of her pocket- her savings largely consisting of the small bets she made with people who underestimated her, like Hugo back in Transfiguration with the matches and needles. Though probably she could have made a great deal by taking advantage of their doubt of 'the transfer's' knowledge at the start of the year, she'd really done it more to make a point. Not for the first time she cursed the goblins at Gringotts.

Jon looked down his nose at the paltry sum, then walked over to his desk and opened a magically locked drawer with a wave of his hand. He pulled out a his wages so far this year and passed her a full purse of galleons big enough to cover her Hogsmeade trip and then some.

Zoey pushed it away uncomfortably when he tried to put the pouch in her hand. "Jon-"

"Take it." he iterated in a no-nonsense voice that promised deep regret in anyone who didn't abide by its wishes.

Zoey looked at him a moment, then rolled her eyes and reached in, taking out a handful of Galleons. "Compromise?"

"Sure." He smiled, knowing that if he hadn't flashed the large amount of money in her face first she never would have taken any at all. This was why she was gullible; she assumed that just because she made the final suggestion she came out of the exchange on her own terms.

He glanced at the clock. "You should get going."

"Yeah." Zoey nodded and went to the door, turning the handle and almost walking into it when it didn't open. She frowned and tugged harder, but it refused to budge under her touch. She set her hand on the wood again and sensed in an instant that her work on the enchantment had already worn off.

"Talk about a design flaw," she grumbled, but even she was unsure if she was talking about the stupid door that wouldn't let her open it without messing with century-old magic, or her own strange skill whose effect had an as-of-yet unknown duration. Sometimes it would continue to let her through for hours, and sometimes- like now- it would recover from her meddling within the span of a visit.

"I've got it." Jon offered and patted her head absentmindedly as he opened the door for her, making sure the coast was clear before pushing her in the back. "Go on. You don't want to make your boyfriend wait for your date."

She immediately blushed, protesting with the stubbornness of a child. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Ah. So it is a date, then?"

"Jon!" Zoey turned to set him straight, but he literally closed the door in her face. She rubbed her nose morosely as the wood turned back to stone, but was quickly distracted by the sight of Rasputin's empty cage. Not only was it empty, but in her reflection she saw that his casual touch had changed her hair color.

She grabbed her bangs and crossed her eyes to look at it, then sighed and tucked it by her ear again. Gold hair for today it was, then.

* * *

Scorpius sat at the back of the bleachers on the quidditch pitch, a pad of paper in front of him. The stands were sparsely filled for the match, as this was just a scrimmage, but since it was the first match of the season and Gryffindor was playing, there was a decent turnout. Roughly half the stands were filled with students, most wearing red or yellow to support the playing houses.

There were a few Ravenclaws in their section with diagrams and charts, and Scorpius just knew that they were going to draw and analyze every strategy Hufflepuff and Gryffindor used this game. Once again Scorpius felt vindicated in his opinion they were the least useless of the other Houses. That was precisely his motivation for being here as well. He was now playing a standard chaser reserve since one of Slytherin's starting chasers, Jackson, had been suspended by Sybble and another reserve ahead of him had started training as a beater. He was now second in the line-up to replace hurt chasers on Slytherin team, and while he was hopeful that he could play Malfoy was still bitter about being forced into the chaser position instead of seeker like he'd wanted.

He was practically alone in the Slytherin section with no one within talking range, but that suited him fine. People were a distraction. Alone he had an unimpeded view of the pitch, no conversations to distract him, and a match to consider.

Scorpius tuned out the amplified voice of commentator Jordan Lancaster, as the girl was obviously biased for Gyffindor team and he was more than capable of seeing the field with his own two eyes. A Malfoy should never have need to rely on secondhand information.

He watched the seven starters of each team line up, then launch into the air with the flying instructor. There was a flurry of movement as they dove for the quaffle, and Scorpius's quill started moving across the page without looking at his writing, listing the order of the chasers' reflexes to the tip-off.

Gryffindor chaser Melody had the quickest reflexes, retrieving the quaffle and dodging opponents with ease to pass it on to Adam. They flew it down the pitch, passing among themselves in a standard weaving pattern that was easy to perform but hard to block. Scorpius made a note of it anyways as they reached the hoops with alarming ease but, at the last moment, had a pass stolen by the Hufflepuff Captain.

They were a bit slow in switching to defense- but that was covered as a Gryffindor beater sent a very well-placed bludger to slow them down. He was almost disappointed to see that it had been the Weasley one, but made a note of her skill anyways. The Hufflepuff beater intercepted the bludger and hit it out of the pitch with brute strength, so that the chasers would have to worry less about getting knocked out of the sky until it got back.

Decent strategy; could easily backfire, of course, if the beaters didn't catch it on the return and it got to one of their players or if they ended up wanting it to distract the keeper, but Scorpius supposed that there could be uses for it. He made a note of it on a different part of the page.

Hufflepuff's chasers had a new strategy to cross the pitch, and it used a lot more vertical maneuvering than Gryffindor was ready for. They actually got a shot off, but the Gryffindor keeper easily caught it and passed it back to his teammates, who took it down the pitch to score the first score of the game.

Scorpius was dimly aware of the rise and fall of the crowd as all of this occurred, but he steadfastly ignored it as he continued to watch, looking at not one person but at the entire field as the game progressed. Gryffindor quickly figured out how to block the Hufflepuff's play and started dominating the field. They were obviously more skilled and in better physical condition.

Soon the game settled into enough of a routine that Scorpius felt it safe to focus on the reserves of each team, looking them over and judging their physical appearances to make educated assumptions why they would have been selected: height equating to wider reach, smaller players more likely to be faster, etcetera.

His gaze hesitated over Rose, standing with the Gryffindor reserves and wearing a scarlet robe that was more vibrant than her hair. She was holding a spare bat, and he realized with mild surprise that she was a reserve beater. She didn't have much physical strength and if he'd had to give her a position, he would have guessed chaser or seeker.

But seeker position, he supposed, was was already taken by the oh-so-capable and flawless James Potter. He wished he could put more spiteful sarcasm into the description, but he was not in the habit of denying the truth. James Potter, for all his many other flaws including nepotism and egoism, was a fantastic seeker. On a broom, he had no competition.

Scorpius watched as Potter avoided a speeding bludger and raised his arms to the cheers of the crowd, flying low over the Gryffindor section.

"If his head gets much bigger," Zoey commented mildly, "They'll use it for the quaffle."

Scorpius grunted in agreement and looked down at his diagrams, making sure he'd understand his own shorthand when he looked at it later. He paused with his quill halfway to his paper, sliding his gaze to the left to look at Zoey from the corner of his eye. "Malam?"

"Yeah Malfoy?" she was looking at the game through a set of binoculars that hung around her neck with a strap.

He looked around, a bit thrown off by her presence. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh I came a bit late- Rasputin was an absolute terror." She looked at him as though expecting pity. "It was his bathday. He hates soap."

Scorpius blinked at her. "Malam, this is the _Slytherin_ section."

"I know! I swear ya'll have the best view of the pitch," Zoey smiled, putting down her binoculars since Scorpius was apparently finished with his work and willing to talk for the moment.

He put a finger to his temple as her obliviousness threatened a headache. Eventually he decided the Zoey's breach of protocol by sitting in the wrong section of the stands wasn't a subject he was willing to discuss, since this was only a scrimmage anyways.

"Aaaand now he's doing a loop-di-loop," Zoey smiled, still watching James practically strut before his admirers. "Seriously? That's just sad."

To say Scorpius was shocked would be an understatement; while he agreed wholeheartedly and had been thinking much the same himself, it was rare for anyone else say such a thing aloud. Much less for them to repeat the opinion. And outside the Slytherin Common Room to boot. "You think so?" he tried prompting her.

"Duh. What else would you call it?" she was oblivious to his special interest in the subject, her chin in her hand as she watched the match. "I mean, he's not paying any attention to his teammates at all, and he's strutting around like he's the most important person on the field."

"He's the seeker and Captain of the team that's winning." Scorpius pointed out grudgingly, loath to admit the reasons that that Potter was the most important person on that field at the moment.

"He's captain? Oh that's even worse- he should _definitely_ be watching his chasers. What'll happen if they need to change plays? Or if he loses an opportunity to block an opponent via meat shield?" She shook her head of gold hair, its shimmer making Scorpius squint for a moment. "There is something wrong with their dynamic if they play like it's one important person plus six other people instead of six teammates with one secret weapon."

He raised an eyebrow at the statement. "Well, the seeker is the most important position. One hundred and fifty points to end the game?" She _did_ know the rules of quidditch, right?

Zoey immediately made a buzzer sound and said "Wrong. It's the position that's _hardest_ to play because it's so easy to be bad at it. Seriously, if seekers were as much of a lynchpin as they believe themselves to be then what's the point of the game? Just stick 'em on a pair of brooms and have them race it out."

He was instantly insulted by the notion, challenging "Well then, if you're such an expert, which position is more important?"

"Chaser." She answered without hesitation, missing his start of surprise as she stood and cheered politely for Hufflepuff as they scored a goal.

When she sat down again Scorpius had composed himself; hearing her name the position he disliked as her favorite had been unexpected. "Why them?"

"Well think about it," She commented and his hackles rose at the insinuation that he hadn't, but Zoey kept talking and ran over his brief opportunity to respond. "Aren't they the ones that have to do the most? There's a reason they're the fittest players on the team. The three of them fly back and forth down the entire pitch, passing a three-kilogram ball, have to keep a half-dozen plays memorized before the game even starts, and while it's possible for a seeker to win a match with the snitch it's the chasers scores through a season that decide the point difference to win a cup."

Scorpius blinked as he realized she was right. In Quidditch _matches_ the winner was almost always the team that caught the snitch, but when it came to the _tournaments_ teams progressed based on point differences. The ten point intervals that chasers scored most definitely could wind up being what won or lost a trophy, when one team walked approached the finals just needing to catch the snitch before they lost too many hoops while the other had to score first, otherwise they'd win the game but lose the Quidditch Cup.

No not 'could', Scorpius realized, would. He felt his left eye twitch as he admitted to himself he really _hadn't_ thought about chaser responsibilities much, instead staring at the glory of the seekers.

"Not to mention…"

There was more?

"They have to be aware of practically everything to be able to get a single hoop in. Not just their other chasers; they have to watch for where the opposing chasers are too. And what happens if they work so hard to reach the hoops, just to have the keeper ready to block because they approached the wrong one? And those flying- um- ooh…" Zoey trailed off and scrunched her nose as she tried to remember the name, then gave it up for the moment. "Those two demon balls that get shot toward chasers to knock them off their brooms; one hit from those and it's a bit worse than losing a few points, isn't it?"

It took him a moment to realize she was waiting for a response. "You have a point." he eventually admitted, very grudgingly. "Chaser's probably the hardest to play tactically."

Zoey smiled, then jumped up as the seekers made a dive for the snitch.

It was hardly a challenge- James Potter dove, overtaking the Hufflepuff seeker with ease and catching the snitch on a fly-by. He pulled up to wave at the stands again while his teammates shook hands with their opponents, doing a few more loops to their adoration. Even with only half a stadium the roar of the fans was echoing.

Malfoy scowled and snapped his book shut, standing abruptly. "I have work to do." he informed Malam, walking down the bleachers.

"See you on Tuesday then." Zoey said mildly, but not quite as casually as it had sounded. She still remembered his response when he was assigned as her tutor, and was weary about how committed he and Rose actually were to helping her. "Unless you've found someone better?"

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy pulled his gaze from Potter's stunts with the snitch and smirked confidently at her. "There's no one better than me, Wainbata."

She blinked in surprise, then groaned at the old nickname. "Aaand it's back. I was wondering how long that would take." Zoey walked down the seats of the bleachers rather than the stairs inbetween, jumping down at the end and waving. "Later! I've got a candy store to eat. I- I mean, see. A candy store to see."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "No. You mean 'eat'."

"Yeah. Yeah, I kinda did." She smiled dazzlingly, then turned and left. "Bye Malfoy!"

He felt no necessity in responding as she was already gone, so he walked down to where Odetta was standing with her own notes on how the match had played.

"Malfoy," the Slytherin quidditch captain said with a trace of relief that he'd come as well. "Thank Merlin. Let me see your notes."

He passed them over without a word, thinking and reevaluating his rising position on Slytherin team. And this time, when he told himself being a reserve chaser was something to be happy about, he could actually believe it.

* * *

 _Sorry this chapter took so long! I had originally intended to write all the way until after Halloween, but then it ended up getting almost thrice as long as my chapters usually are, so... sorry, but hey- expect a quick update to make up for it! (applause maybe? No? Only in my dreams? kay then...)_

 _Thanks for the re-review Steffes! Glad I'm meeting your expectations._

~E


	18. Ch 18 Troubled Boys Dramatic Girls

**Ch 18- Troubled Boys. Dramatic Girls.**

* * *

Albus waited at the courtyard after the quidditch match, nervously running his hands through his hair. Each time he did he caught himself, hoping that his hair would still look like he'd brushed it this morning. It had been an epic battle involving a few broken combs and possibly a secret stash of WonderWitch shampoos that he kept under lock and key, but he'd managed to not only get rid of his bedhead but coax his hair into a normal shape. With luck it might last the rest of the day.

Who was he kidding. Knowing himself, he probably looked like he had a bird nesting in there. Still, he made an active effort not to mess it up any further, biting his thumbnails to calm his nerves instead.

The childhood habit didn't work either. Every time he saw other students meet up in pairs, throw an arm around each other, say hello with a quick kiss, then walk away for a date together, his heart rate sped faster and faster. Pretty soon he could give a snitch a run for its money.

"If your mum saw you doing that, she'd have a fit." Lysander commented.

Albus dropped his fingers from his mouth with a scowl. Lysander always seemed to do the impossible. Breaking Aunt Hermione's school records was just the start- the Ravenclaw Prefect was the best Ravenclaw Keeper in history (though he denied it), he had helped his mother Luna Scamander prove the existence of three new magical creatures by the time he was fifteen (Wrackspurts, Dabberblimps, and Nargles), and had eyes not only in the back of his head but the backs of his books (very annoying). Lysander not only had his nose buried in one but was turned completely away from Albus, and somehow he _still_ knew that the Potter boy had been biting his nails.

It wasn't fair. Some people could just do anything perfectly; he was dying without Rose's assistance on his homework assignments, but Lysander was not only juggling N.E.W.T.S., Quidditch Practice, _and_ Prefect Patrols but also managing to tutor Al on a frequent basis to help his younger friend keep up. He spent a lot more time on it than Rose ever did too, so Albus was becoming more acquainted with the library than he ever had before. It was exhausting. And Lysander's dumb, perfectly smooth hair was mocking him to boot. Every single bloody day Lysander looked as flawless as he was, and it bothered him more today than usual. And the worst part of it all was how completely oblivius he was about it- he didn't walk around like he was perfect, he didn't think he was perfect, and somehow that only made him all the more perfect. All in all, if Lysander wasn't his good friend, Albus was sure he would hate his guts.

Lysander put his book down to stand with his usual presence and walked over to Al, looking him over. "Relax. You're fine."

Albus gulped and nodded nervously, his fingers going back to his mouth.

"No." Lysander grabbed his hand, catching his gaze and holding it. "I mean it- you look perfect."

He froze for a moment, then pulled his hand free. He was not 'perfect', and he certainly didn't look it. Not the way Lysander did. His hair was a mess, he'd found a few more pimples on his face that morning, and he was sure his clothes looked frumpy and wrinkled.

Oh Merlin his clothes, he realized with rising panic. He hadn't even _thought_ about what he was wearing. He had just grabbed a coat and long pants for the cooling weather and looked- oh no, he'd picked one with a stain on it. Had Lysander noticed? Albus hoped not. He looked up the stairs and debated if he still had time to get changed. As he looked up, though, he caught sight of a familiar figure sitting by one of the gargoyles.

"Zoey?" He asked, then waved, all his nerves forgotten and insignificant as he caught sight of her. "Zoey!"

The girl he'd been waiting for turned to his voice and smiled, leaping off the ten-foot-drop without hesitation and calling as she approached "There you are! I had no idea where to find you so I had to start looking, then I figured that while I was trying to find I should try being found too, right?"

"Er…" Albus looked to his left for a translation, but Lysander was somehow back to reading against a pillar.

Zoey smiled and walked up to him, giving him a quick side-hug. "So where to first, Al?"

"I was thinking Uncle George's Joke Shop." He smiled, relaxing with ease. He ran a hand through his hair. "Com'on, let's get a carriage."

Zoey glanced back at Lysander curiously, opening and then closing her mouth before tilting her head.

The Ravenclaw Prefect snapped his gaze up just in time to stop her from asking the obvious question _Why isn't Sandy coming?_ that she was obviously wondering about. He shook his head, then looked down at the book again.

His eyes were moving with the words, but Zoey could tell he wasn't really reading. She'd seen him read that book before already. Confused, she turned to run after Albus, finding him surrounded by a group of girls as he stood by a carriage. The girl at the front and middle looked like a living doll. She had straight blond hair with highlights in it, flawless skin, the right touch of mascara on her eyes, and a dazzling white smile that was framed by a perfect pair of lips.

The girl turned to Zoey with that smile, holding out her hand. "Oh hi! I'm Leena; are you coming to Hogsmeade too?"

It took Zoey exactly one glance to know exactly what kind of person this girl was. Her smile was a little too practiced, her spine straightened even more whenever one of her friends got closer, and her gaze lingered on Zoey's striped stocking in obvious disapproval of the fashion choice. Leena's own attire was composed of top-fashion brands from Madam Malkins shop in Diagon Alley, and her nails were painted with enchanted polish with decorative flowers that spun slowly. This was the kind of girl that attracted the gaze of every guy in a room, and the kind that other girls tried to be friends with because no matter how shallow, no matter how silly it was, a girl that looks like that had instant popularity and they wanted to be granted just a small taste of it. The type of girl nobody said 'no' to.

She knew the type on sight because she'd grown up with one. _Bonnie._ A name that still made her cringe as she remembered a time of cold shoulders and veiled insults, all delivered with a perfectly beautiful smile. This girl wasn't Bonnie, she knew- or so she told herself, because this person was the very definition of a 'spitting image'. Or in this case 'self-entitled, self-righteous, airheaded-bimbo image'.

And Zoey had been aiming to feel happier by the end of the day.

"Yeah," Zoey smiled, taking the manicured hand and shaking it once. "Al was going to show me around. I haven't been before, so I was a bit nervous about being lost-"

"Oh really? Oh that's so chivalrous, Albus." Leena cut off Zoey's rambling and looked at him like his actions were something she had a right to be proud of. "I'd be happy to let her tag along with us. What do you say?"

Albus looked horribly lost, putting his hands in front of him. "Er, Leena, we were- the plan was-"

"Actually I had something to ask Al," Zoey came to his rescue, nodding at the looks of incredulity she was sent. Her gaze didn't meet any of theirs, though. "So I'm going to ride alone with him in the carriage-"

"To ask a question?" Leena challenged, her nostrils flaring a bit even though she was still smiling.

"Well yes, actually. Is that a problem?" Zoey had to stop herself from asking another question with visible effort, but she wasn't interested in letting this girl interrupt her yet again. She was looking in the direction of the carriages that awaited their departure.

"Albus always goes to Hogsmeade with us." Leena assured with confidence, "So if you want to come then I suppose you can come along as well- I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

"Zoey Malam." she answered with distraction, still looking over the girl's shoulders.

"We're going together," Albus said definitively, then realized that could be seen as agreeing with either girl. "Er, I mean, we are Zoey- because that what I said, and- Leena well-"

Some of the girls behind Leena looked at eachother in confusion regarding the situation, obviously sharing the opinion that Albus Potter wanting to spend time with the transfer _instead_ of Leena was unthinkable.

"Oh, well," Leena's smile faded and she seemed genuinely hurt. "Well, I hope you enjoy, and all. We'll be in the Three Broomsticks, if you want to visit. And- what are you staring at?"

She'd finally noticed that the transfer student hadn't been paying attention to her for the past several minutes, instead staring somewhere above her left shoulder.

Zoey didn't answer, instead continuing to stare at the empty space.

Albus started to get worried too. "Um, Zoey, what are you…?"

"Oh I'm just wondering how long it will take for her to notice. We really have been standing here a long time and they don't really like those harnesses and honestly, I think it's incredibly rude to make them wait as long as they have been but since nobody seemed eager to actually start the day I suppose it's a good thing Hagrid's got them trained so well, isn't it?" Her usual bouncing tone conflicted with her words.

Leena frowned, not understanding much of that except Professor Hagrid's name. "What trained?"

"His thestrals." Zoey pointed at the one she'd been looking at, and it was with waning confusion that the others turned to look at the empty space in front of the magical carriage.

The carriage that was no longer waiting with the rest, but had moved toward their group. One glance let Zoey reaffirm that nobody else could see the skeletal horses that pulled it. "Oh- my bad. I forgot. You can't see them coming toward you, can you? Anyways, like I said though you should really thank Hagrid. He's the only person who's ever trained a whole herd before. Does he train a lot of dangerous things, do you know? Are they all carnivores? Does he feed them every meal or let them hunt on their own when they're hungry? I wonder if these two are hungry… They're definitely uncomfortable, being stuck in those harnesses all day and just having to stand around waiting for us…"

The girls, quite understandably, paled as they recalled just how many of Hagrid's 'pets' had come close to eating fingers or burning their hair. A few of them weren't in Hagrid's elective class, but had still heard the stories. They were the palest of the group.

"You've noticed, then." Zoey said mildly, looking at Leena's expression. She walked past them- trailing her hand along the thestral's invisible flank as she did so- and jumped over the door of the open carriage, smiling at the group. "Well? Are you going to keep them waiting?"

"I, um…" Leena looked away from the girl and the invisible creatures, "I think I left something in my room. I'll go check."

Her posse readily followed her.

Zoey's smile was cheery as ever, but her eyes were still lacking their usual shine as she sat back against the cushions with a small huff. It took her a moment to realize someone was sitting beside her, and she looked out of the corner of her eyes to see that Albus had joined her. He was a bit pale.

Her gut clenched with guilt. Honestly, she hadn't been thinking about him. Albus had confessed that he was borderline terrified of magical creatures, something to do with his older brother telling him tall tales about many deadly things in the Forbidden Forest and his parents' not so tall tales about deadly things, many from the Forbidden Forest. He wasn't even taking Care of Magical Creatures it was so bad.

The thestrals started pulling their carriage over the lake to Hogsmeade.

"So… um…" Zoey twisted her ponytail, surprised the tense atmosphere between them didn't have a flavor.

"So you can get mad." Albus finished, tapping his fingertips together.

"Of course I get mad," She mumbled defensively, "but that was more like… annoyed…"

"You told them the invisible, carnivorous, dangerous animals that were right behind them were hungry because you were 'annoyed'?"

"...Yes?"

The awkward silence stretched, and Zoey felt pushed to fill it. "I- I mean, we didn't _want_ her along, did we? She was being all syrupy and rude and she interrupted me twice." She held up her fingers with an injured air. "Twice!"

He smiled at her theatrics, finally relaxing in his seat. He was staring ahead of him, but by his unfocused gaze it was apparent Albus was looking not at the beasts pulling their carriage but at what lay ahead of them. "Still, you should apologize."

Zoey personally doubted the chance would ever occur, but nodded and agreed anyways.

* * *

"The Halloween Feast," Nott smiled as he leaned back on his bed, "Oh what a wonderful opportunity. All the faculty gathered and safely tucked away, leaving us free to roam the halls doing whatever we please… Was it First or Second Year, Zambini, when we surrounded the Fat Lady's portrait with Flobberworm Mucus?"

"Second." Marcellous Zambini smiled, readily avoiding the essay he was having trouble with. There was always yet another one to write no matter how many he got through, so he really wasn't that eager to get started on this one yet, though he liked looking like he was. "First year we didn't know where the Gryffindor Commons was, so we just set exploding snaps in the Legacies' morning classes instead."

"Oh right, burned a hole right through Potter's trousers."

"And then Thorn screamed like a banshee when hers flew under her skirt, do you remember?"

The boys laughed at the memory, reminiscing on the early days of their escapades.

Then the door to their dorm slammed open with such force they both started guiltily.

Nott was preparing an excuse for Sybble already. "We were reading a joke book, miss, from the _Wheezes_ shop, that's all- oh, Malfoy. Give us a bleeding heart attack, why don't you."

"We thought you were Sybble," Zambini protested, putting a hand over his racing heart.

"Be glad I wasn't." Scorpius Malfoy said blandly as he stepped inside his friends' dorm, locking the door behind him. "How thick can you get, confessing like that out loud?"

"I'd rather have a pensive, but since _I_ don't have a few thousand Galleons to spare…" Nott said sarcastically and rolled his eyes, sitting up and leaning against the headboard.

Malfoy sat on Zambini's bed, avoiding the serious point in Nott's jab at himself. He pulled the four-poster curtain to the side with a bit of a sigh, wishing his own roommates were half as sanitary as his friends were. Actually he'd prefer it if they were twice as sanitary, Scorpius admitted as he nudged a dirty sock away with his toe and a small curl of disgust to his lip, but Malfoys made it a habit to only hope for realistic things. "You should be more careful. If you had managed to get yourself caught, you might have detention on Halloween night."

The pair sat up again, but now their eyes were alight with new interest. "You going to share the plan for this year, then?"

"This year, we're not setting a prank. We're breaking in somewhere far more important than Gryffindor Common room." Scorpius could practically taste their anticipation, but merely told them in his usual mild voice "We're going into the Restricted Section."

"Of the _library?"_ Zambini asked in disbelief, looking at him like he'd suggested an extra study session with Professor Binns.

"Do you know any other 'Restricted Section' inside Hogwarts?"

"But- _why?_ "

Scorpius ran a hand down his face, thinking the answer rather obvious. He looked at Nott expectantly, but for once it seemed both his friends didn't know what was on his mind and he was forced to explain himself himself. "Our research. The main section of the library has very little information, and with the way that wizarding society treats- you know…"

Zambini ran both hands through his hair and glared at the other boys. "Would you two stop avoiding the word like that? You make it sound like Melissa has some sort of terminal disease or something."

"Well," Nott protested, "That pretty much _is_ the way she'll be treated if anybody finds out."

"No, if people find out they'll mock her. Throw food and stuff. Her folks will pull her out of Hogwarts."

Scorpius watched as the pair grew silent, remembering the seriousness of their friend's situation. He let them stew in it for a moment, then spoke again "That's why the Restricted Section might be more efficient. It's definitely a subject people don't like to talk about; stands to reason they wouldn't like to read about it either, so the best information might be in there. I looked through their book list, and there are a few that might be what we're looking for."

"'Might be'?"

"I haven't exactly had the opportunity to pluck them off the shelf to check," Scorpius said dryly, his eyes going to the ceiling with mild frustration.

Nott sniggered lightly at Zambini's poor question, but without quite his usual enthusiasm. He was quiet for a moment, then asked "Hey Malfoy, are we going to do _anything_ to the Legacies this year?"

Scorpius blinked mildly, realizing for the first time that lately they hadn't been up to their usual pastime of setting traps and pranks to catch the Legacies unaware. In fact, he realized, they hadn't done anything to even James Potter all year long.

After thinking about it for a moment, Scorpius looked at his friends and asked diplomatically. "Do you want to?"

Zambini opened his mouth to give the gut reaction of 'YES' but paused, remembering his grades actually raising several points so far this semester. In fact, he was well on his way to receiving his highest marks ever. He closed his mouth and, to his own disbelief, shook his head. "Not really. Nott?"

Seeing his friend give the matter serious consideration inspired Nott to do so as well, but it didn't take as long for him to make up his mind. "Between our time in the library and our club activities, I suppose we don't really have much time for planning or detention anymore, do we?"

They all fell silent for a moment, feeling that this was the start of a change in their lives. They were becoming- well they weren't 'maturing' exactly, even though that was the word Headmistress McGonagall had always used to describe this day. This day, when their lives moved past setting dungbombs and traps, when their actions became as serious as the rest of their mannerisms.

Scorpius Malfoy felt a small knot in his stomach as he realized that now, in their Fourth Year of Hogwarts, they were finally starting to become adults. He imagined over the summer that his friends would be busy working jobs and helping their families, maybe even attending wizarding functions with their fathers and rebuilding the credit of their surnames.

"'Our' club activities?" Zambini repeated after a moment, "You're not on the Quidditch team."

Nott threw a pillow at him. "There are more clubs in Hogwarts than just Quidditch, broom-brain."

Zambini threw his inkwell at him, and then two started enchanting things to fly in each other's face with increasing frequency.

Scorpius felt a trace of relief as he watched from the sidelines, occasionally sending something flying at one or the other with his own wand but studiously careful not to get caught doing so. The three of them weren't that 'mature' yet.

* * *

As much as Zoey had been looking forward to the Honey-something candy shop, the joke shop was the place in Hogsmeade that she really fell in love with. The gadgets and creations and knick knacks were things she found inspiring, refreshing, and just plain fun. Albus had been quite happy to explain everything, sometimes multiple times, but he drew a line at demonstrating. He might not have, if Zoey hadn't asked about the Puking Pastels first.

Zoey Malam left her first ever visit to _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ with three bags of pranking supplies, which Albus had quite chivalrously offered to carry for her.

"Sorry my Uncle wasn't there," Albus apologized, "He could have given you a killer discount."

"'Could' or 'would'?"

"...Could," Albus admitted with a wry smile, "It might have taken a bit of chores bartering. You know, promising to do all his dishes during family get togethers and stuff. Uncle George can get a bit stingy, especially since he's been having to run both stores lately." Normally Uncle Ron would swap back and forth with him as manager over shop assistants, but he hadn't been lately.

"So we've seen the candy shop, walked through the robes store, and saw your family's _amazing_ shop," Zoey grinned with enthusiasm, but as goosebumps rose on her arms she reflected that maybe she should have worn an extra layer under her shirt as the weather got cooler. "What else is there to look at?"

"The Shrieking Shack is always a scream," he offered, then cringed. "Sorry. Sorry, oh that was a terrible attempt at a joke."

Bad or not, he was still rewarded with a chuckle. "Haunted house it is, then."

Albus grinned and lead the way, surprised when Zoey stopped walking as the sun came out from behind a cloud.

She stopped and turned to face it, the golden sheen of her hair reflecting the light in a sheen around her face. Her expression was calm and serene, the very light bending around her as she took a deep breath and opened her palms low against her sides in it's direction. Albus wondered if she knew how angelic she looked in that moment as she slowly declared… "Photosynthesis."

He snorted in surprise. "Sorry- what?"

"Photosynthesis," She repeated in the same serious tone as she felt the sunlight warm her skin and chase away the slight chill in her bones.

"But- you're not a plant."

"Shhh. I don't obey logic." Her lips twitched in amusement, and a few moment later they were laughing. "Okay, okay let's go to this screaming pla- what is that?" She pointed to an obnoxiously pink window, walking up to peer inside. "Did they forget to take down Valentines decorations for a whole year? There are hearts _everywhere_ in this place."

Albus felt his cheeks redden, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. "That's, um, that's Madam Puddifoot's. It- it's always like that. It's sorta a-"

Zoey jumped back from the window with a squeak and a blush, putting her hand over her mouth. "They- they just kissed! Like, _five couples_ just kissed at the same time!" She pointed at the window, then dropped her hand when she realized that was rude.

"Ye- yeah," oh how he wished she hadn't noticed the place. "It's sorta a couple's tea shop."

She put her hand over her eyes to avoid the sight, then covered her gaping mouth again, then put both hands back over her eyes. It was a bit adorable that she was so flustered- and at least Albus wasn't alone in his awkwardness. "That has to be the worst date setting ever," she eventually mumbled, walking away from the overly-pink store. "Sit in a room with so many people watching and staring like that? Not to mention- _tea?_ Really? There's a limit to how British people can be; if you want to get to know each other like that it's perfectly fine to do it over pumpkin juice in the Great Hall. That isn't a date-place, it's a 'lookit how cute we are as a couple' brag spot."

"Sure," Albus murmured, but was still looking at it over her shoulder.

Zoey opened her mouth to say something more, but stopped as she registered the extreme blush on his face. Now, she hadn't considered this past a hang-out with a new friend, but his expression, Leena's reaction, Lysander's strangeness with the book that morning, and Jon's teasing coalesced in her mind to show her a good amount of evidence.

Apparently, Albus Potter wanted to date her. As in, romantically. As in, boyfriend-girlfriend, hold-hands-and-blink-like-something-is-stuck-in-your-eye, kiss-and-tell, romantically.

The idea made her smile. Zoey had never been in love- she hadn't even considered herself to be 'in crush' before. She had never just looked at somebody and just felt that instant thrill, felt her heart skip a beat and her eyes trail after them like the books talked about. Love at first sight had to be true for some people in the world, but Zoey had never had that herself. She had always figured she'd need to know someone better before she personally could fall in love for real.

That didn't mean she'd never thought about it. She'd looked at plenty of guys her age and thought 'he's nice' or 'he's cute' and looked forward to having that in her life.

Albus was fun. Fun _ny,_ and really nice. They got along really well so far. But, if he actually came out and asked if she wanted to date she'd say no, simply because- simply- she didn't like him romantically yet. And that wouldn't be fair to him.

For the moment, though, it seemed he was okay with being friends. And she was too. Zoey decided to keep his feelings in mind as she got to know him, see if her own would grow. She'd like to like him. But she was too self aware and valued their friendship too much to risk losing it by starting a romantic relationship when they weren't equally committed.

Grinning, she poked him in the side. "Tag!"

Albus grinned as he watched her run off, hitching the bags higher up on his shoulders so he could run after her. He didn't really try to catch up; she had a head-start and he'd never been that athletic, especially when it came to hills. Instead he just kept her in sight until they reached the top of the slope overlooking the Shrieking Shack, and sat on the bench beside her.

He was red with embarrassment at how badly he was panting. He probably should get in better shape.

Zoey didn't seem to mind as she perched atop the back of the bench, looking at the looming, daunting house that was grayed with age and in shambles from neglect. Despite that it was apparent that it had once stood tall, that the drooping arches and flaking paint may have once been the sign of what could have been a proud home. "It looks… sad," she said after a few moments, resting her chin in her hand.

"Yeah I know," Albus agreed, but didn't see quite the same things she did. To him this was a place of old horrors, things that were best left in this past. This was where Peter Pettigrew's betrayal was discovered, where the Dark 'Lord' Voldemort had set up headquarters in the time preceding the Battle of Hogwarts… and of course, this was where his grandfather, James's namesake, had saved the life of Albus Severus's namesake, Severus Snape, a man who lived to kill his other namesake, Albus Dumbledore, on the orders of the latter, only to end up dying right back here at the hands of the aforementioned Voldemort while saving his father.

…Wow his family history was convoluted. Why did his parents name them with such contrasting names anyways? No wonder he and James had trouble getting along. He decided not to share those thoughts with Zoey. "To be honest I don't much like coming up here. It creeps me out."

Zoey blinked and turned her gaze from the view to her friend, tilting her head. "Why?"

He liked that. She didn't call him childish or tease him, she acknowledged that he must have a reason and only wanted to know if he was willing to share. She was the only person who knew him that didn't treat him like a pain or a brat or a crybaby. He still, however, didn't really want to voice his musing about the souring relationship with his brother, so he just said "This was a bad place during my mum's sixth year, when Voldemort took over Hogwarts."

"Ah." She half-hummed the sound and left it at that, then stood up. "Thanks for showing me anyways."

He grinned and walked with her back to the carriages, handing off the bag of purchases from _Wizard Wheezes_ when she asked for it.

She grinned at the many various bottles and prank traps, then looked at Albus from the corner of her eye. "Wanna help me get even with someone?"

The expression and tone so reminded him of James and Roxanne that he actually paused for half a second, unnerved. "What do you mean?"

"A certain mule-headed person has recently gotten it into his mind that I can be blackmailed," Zoey pouted, and Al could tell whoever it was was certainly close to her. "I mean, he's right of course, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna let him get away with it."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Are you kidding? I'm gonna throw the whole bag at him." Zoey grinned, looking over everything. "Weasley's magical hair dye…"

"That's from the WonderWitch brand." Albus corrected her.

"Jinxed quills…"

"Misspells anything you write. Don't do your essays with that."

"Mustache Caterpillars…"

"Careful. They Tickle."

"The Doodleman Stick…"

"Now that one's just weird," Albus admitted. The Doodleman 'Stick' actually looked more like a spatula, with a living stickfigure man on the end. The man couldn't talk like a normal portrait, but he could leave the stick onto any writing surface it touched, where he would proceed to make general mischief, like flipping around and attacking any other words or drawings that were on the page. He would only stop when someone scooped him back onto his stick.

"I think it's genius. It's totally ripped off from those computer animation things, though."

He frowned in confusion. "Computer whatnow?"

Zoey giggled, "It astounds me that wizard culture is so different. There were some fake video's that really remind me of this idea."

"Hey, I'm better than most." Albus was very proud of his grades in Muggle Studies. He'd said 'computer' right… hadn't he?

"Still doesn't equate growing up with muggles your whole life," Zoey teased. "Aunt Mary and Uncle Peter taught me more than they ever knew."

"What about your Dad?" Albus asked, taking a bite of the treackle tarts- pretty much the only candy he liked, since it was sour instead of sweet. "He was a muggle too, right?"

"Albus…" Zoey looked so solemn he immediately regretted asking the question. "Al, what reasons could there ever be for someone to grow up with her aunt and uncle instead of her parents?"

"Well- oh," It took him a moment to realize this wasn't a theoretical question. He blushed immediately. "Sorry."

She shrugged, looking at her own toes as they covered ground. She didn't say 'it's okay' because it really wasn't- and brushing it off might make him think it was okay to ask about it later. Even on the best of day's Zoey couldn't approach the subject without either breaking down into tears or lashing out at any and everything. She didn't want to hurt Al without reason, and crying was never fun, so she let him know exactly how much she disliked the subject to dissuade further inquiry.

It worked. He was so mortified that he didn't dare start another conversation until they were almost back to the castle. "So… um… who tried to blackmail you, anyways?"

"Oh," Zoey grinned secretively, being intentionally vague, "Just my paranoid, know-it-all big cousin."

* * *

Two days before Halloween the school was abuzz with with gossip, and Christine Creevy couldn't be more pleased as her latest issue of _School Scandals_ sold like Whizz-Bang chocolates. There were hushed whispers and murmurs in the corners in every corridor and secret passage of the school, following the main subjects of her articles like a trail of ants to sugar.

"Are you certain?" someone would ask, "Can it really be true?" someone else would inquire a few minutes later, and with each awed whisper she would only hold her head higher with pride. Christine wrote under a pseudonym to keep her identity secret from the faculty, but oh, oh how dearly did she enjoy the way her work kept the entire school riveted on days like this.

"Squib?" James had asked with a mixture of disgust and disappointment when he heard the plan for her next article. He didn't feel any need to know who was a squib, except to know who not to turn to for help if he was ever in a pinch. "Why on earth would you post an article about squibs?"

"Because, I found a few." Christine had grinned, enjoying their private picnic. " _In_ Hogwarts with us. As _students,_ some without even without a lick of magic."

James rubbed his chin with one hand, the other arm extended to let her rest her head atop it as a pillow while they caught a breather. "How can you tell?"

"Oh, lots of ways." She smiled deviously, tapping her fingers on his chest. "A quick peak into grade records and it's a quick tell to see who was doing poorly at their wandwork. A bit more of this-and-that, asking around, and it was easy to find who uses magic casually and who uses their hands instead. When someone does things the Muggle way all the time, it has to be because they have trouble with the magic way. Ergo, squib."

"Interesting."

"...Zoethia Malam is part of that list."

He looked at her sharply. "Is she?"

"She is- Transfigurations, Dark Arts, Charms- those are all wand-heavy courses, and those are the ones she's taking at First and Second Year level."

"Interesting." The same word, but he actually sounded like he meant it that time. "And when is this going to get published?"

"Oh, a few days." She had answered with faux casualness, feeling her heart skip a beat.

James had smirked worthy of a Slytherin and rolled so he hovered above her, knocking aside their forgotten basket. "That long? Could I persuade you to move that a bit sooner?"

"Hm, you would owe me again."

With the same smirk James had leaned closer so that his lips hovered above hers, saying slowly "I'd be happy to reimburse you." before he closed the distance to give her a searing kiss.

The next few minutes had had her seeing stars and then-

"Christine, why are you blushing?"

She was jerked out of her memory and put her hands on her cheeks, feeling the warmth of their flush. "I just, um, thinking." She mumbled quickly to her Potions partner, hurriedly getting back to work at chopping the roots for their Draught of Peace.

Behind her someone whispered "Did you see this list of squibs? There's a _pureblood_ on it."

"I know," her friend whispered back, "and that transfer too…"

"Do you think it's true?"

"She's never been wrong before. How does she find this stuff?"

Christine was practically preening for the rest of the day.

* * *

Anyone else might have wished for an invisibility cloak, or cast a chameleon spell. They might have run from class to class with their head bowed or their friends close, or maybe even hidden under a rock. But, as Zoey Malam was often the first to assure, she most certainly was not a normal girl.

And Scorpius Malfoy would be the first to support such a statement. Even as he sat across a chessboard from Zoey as they finished up their latest tutoring session, he was marveling at her personality. The other people that had been named in the _Scandals_ list of squibs were practically scuttling around the school to hide, and yet when she walked into their practice classroom her biggest worry had been a rip in her striped stockings.

"My sock!" She shouted as soon as she came in the room, hopping on one foot to look at the tear three-inch tear on the shin of the other. "Some idiot enchanted the spear from a suit of armour, and it ripped my sock!"

Scorpius had been more curious about the many scabs and bruises on her person. It seemed a lot of Hogwarts students were trying to see if they could provoke her magic into responding, trying to test her 'squib'-ness themselves. His hand clenched into a fist as he imagined everyone on that pointless list going through the same thing. He asked a question to curb his thoughts in a different direction. "And… was this an isolated event?"

"Weirdly enough, no." Zoey had brought him out of his wandering thoughts with a light shrug, obviously thinking so little about the matter she hadn't elaborated at all.

Her ignorance really knew no bounds, Scorpius reflected as he moved his bishop. She hadn't seemed to have even heard a word about the article, or the rumors that must have buzzed around her like a swarm of gnats. How could someone not notice all that animosity directed at them?

"Garde," she announced a move before she took his queen.

Very predictable. She was a reactive chess player, no planning at all that he could see, but Zoey was good at seeing his strategy coming and successfully thwarting it. She'd even insisted on playing black even though white had the advantage of moving first.

She was not good enough, however. Scorpius Malfoy didn't need a queen. He moved his knight instead. "Check."

"Ugh," Zoey put her curled finger on her lips, leaning forward to consider the board's new layout.

Scorpius found himself analysing her once again as she planned, seeing a subtle bruise on her elbow and numerous scrapes on her arms. Likely, he considered their position on her limbs, from catching her weight on repeated falls to the ground. He wondered if that spear that cut her stocking near the ankle had tripped her as well.

"There." Zoey decided, moving her pawn wall forward to block his attack on her king.

She had successfully found the response that delayed his victory the longest. They went through the next few moves in silence, and then he asked "Why didn't you block it with a spell?"

"Block what?"

"The spear."

Zoey snorted lightly, glancing at the clock. "How? My hands were full and I barely had time to see it at all. And my shield spell isn't much better than my knockback, after all."

He narrowed his gaze at the disappointment in her voice. "I will teach you the next one after you master the first."

"Oh- no, no I wasn't blaming you, Malfoy. You're really helping me out a ton, I promise. If I was going to blame anyone- excluding myself, of course-" she glanced at the door, then up at the clock again. "I would blame Miss Wessel, who seems to have given up on me after all."

Scorpius grunted his agreement, also surprised that Rose was already an hour late to tutoring, before moving his bishop again. The conversation reminded him of an idea he'd had earlier in the week. "Have you heard of the dueling club?"

She pushed her pawns again. "Vaguely. I'm more interested in the synchronized flying, personally."

An image of her on her broom in a leotard flashed through his mind, but he resolutely pushed it away to visualize his game strategy. "It's officially called Dumbledore's Dueling Club- a more relaxed continuation of the old Dumbledore's Army. It's run by Professor Longbottom."

"The Herbology Professor?" Zoey asked in surprise, just to make sure she was placing that right.

"The very same. Professor Sybble quotes him in class from time to time." He initiated a rook exchange before continuing "Nott's a pretty big participant. You should give it a try."

Her hand slipped as she took his peice, knocking over his knight. "A- sorry, what?" She looked at him questioningly. "I don't particularly like people laughing at me, Malfoy."

"They take people at every level of skill," or lack thereof, in Wainbata's case. "I think it will help."

"...Okay then."

"Consider it; you did well when pressured-" Scorpius blinked, stopping his explanation of how her sudden explosion of magic in front of the fire made him think she might progress better under more realistic pressure than just a grade, like the dueling club's mock combat situations. He'd expected her to ask how he expected it to could be better than private instruction and how it would, exactly, be beneficial in her usual rapid-fire manner. He hadn't anticipated easy acceptance. "That quick?"

"Yeah- you wouldn't recommend it if you didn't believe it. When do they meet?"

Scorpius was a bit taken aback by her obvious trust in him, but was careful not to show it. "I'll find out."

Zoey smiled a bit, silent for a few more moves until she looked at the clock, then at the door again. "She's really not going to show, is she?"

Scorpius followed the gaze, saying "Something official must be keeping Thorn. Nothing else could."

"I'm sure she's not too disappointed to miss my endless questions." Zoey said mildly, and with far less accusation than Scorpius would have expected. She kept watching the clock run down. On McGonagall's orders, none of them were to leave a second before the end of Zoey's official tutoring time. Even if a certain Rose Weasley hadn't bothered to show up at all, and the other two had finished their work ages ago.

"Checkmate." Scorpius declared, for the third game in a row.

Zoey smiled good-naturedly and leaned back, flicking her king over to a 'dead' position. "I'll beat you someday."

Scorpius just looked at her, but his silent expression displayed his sincere doubt at that eventuality.

It was enough to make Zoey laugh, "Hey, I may wait until you're too senile to tell the pieces apart, or so distracted by something you don't notice me putting the queen back on the board, but it'll happen. Eventually."

Even if she had the queen back it wouldn't have made that much of a difference. Scorpius was about to point out the vast difference in their skills when he realized a different point to her statement. "You plan to know me that long?"

"I don't plan not to. We are friends, after all. " Zoey smiled, and it was her usual smile. It was a smile that was open and honest and easy to join in with a ghost of his own- but for some reason that made it all the more uncomfortable for him.

Her expression felt burned into his peripheral vision as he walked down to the Quidditch Pitch for practice, mocking him from the corner of his eye in its simplicity. He simply didn't understand 'simple' motivations.

Scorpius Malfoy was complicated by nature. He belonged in Slytherin. His mind was full of plans and analysing and evaluating and rating people- even the closest of friends- by levels of loyalty and usefulness. He reveled in being surrounded by like-minded people, for they were the ones with a true understanding of him and how best to appeal to his interests accordingly.

Wainbata Malam didn't even _rank_ on either scale. She had no reason to be loyal to Malfoy- in fact she like most of the school had plenty of reason to hate him for his last name alone. She wasn't talented enough to be useful, and she wasn't connected to anyone important- and no, Scorpius most certainly did not consider Assistant Orion to be important. Scorpius Malfoy should have formed a purely functional relationship with her, cordial enough to become acquaintances maybe but certainly not genuine enough for her to call him a 'friend'.

And yet when he looked back on their conversations he found that he had talked a more lot to Zoey more than was strictly necessary- and more shockingly, talked about things that simply weren't important. Malfoys didn't have time for things of no importance. Scorpius didn't even _like_ things of no importance.

He was thinking hard over the mystery of his own actions when he noticed a soft noise coming from behind him. He paused in the hallway, looking around for it's source and eventually identifying it as the tapestry he'd just passed by.

It was a sort of huffing sound, with a few scattered hiccups here and there coming through the embroidered gryffin. Scorpius looked to the ceiling as he realized that somebody was crying in the secret room behind it. He raised his voice so it so it echoed down the corridor "Would you like me to get a prefect?"

The breath hitched and held, as though the person were holding their breath.

"I've already heard you, there's no use pretending." Scorpius put a finger to his temple, trying to estimate how long this person would take to answer. The Slytherin team would be warming up soon. Maybe he should just move on as though he didn't care- which he certainly didn't, but manners were a Malfoy must.

"N-no, just- _hic-_ leave me."

The voice was small and unusually timid, but he would recognise it anywhere. " _Rose?"_ Scorpius turned in disbelief, yanking the tapestry aside before he'd really thought it through.

Rose Weasley was a mess, her eyes red and puffy from what had clearly been an extended crying session. Her loose hair was tangled like a rat's nest and there were trails of snot and tears going down her face.

"Rose?" He asked again, unable to consolidate this weepy, vulnerable girl to the rigid image of confidence she always upheld.

"Oh-" Rose crumpled a piece of paper in her hand and pushed him, her embarrassment giving way to anger. "Just leave me alone!"

Scorpius was so shocked he could do nothing but stare as she pushed by him and ran off down the corridor. He watched her turn the corner and continued to stare for a bit longer, uncharacteristically indecisive. He had the feeling that he maybe should go after her- but that was ridiculous. Whatever that paper was she had plenty of people to help her about it, between her many cousins or the Legacy fans or hey, even the faculty members that looked at her like a long-lost niece.

As much as Zoey's smile had bothered him, the look in Rose's eyes was a thousand times worse. It filled him with this incessant need to _do_ something, but he had no idea _what._ It was ridiculous. Rose didn't need him, he thought bitterly. If she was alone right now it was because she wanted to be, and he, a Malfoy of all people, certainly wouldn't be welcome prying into her personal problems.

It was a few minutes before Scorpius realized he was late to quidditch practice and cursed under his breath, picking up his pace from a thought-laden meander to a light jog. By the time he got to the pitch Malfoy had realized something.

He really didn't understand girls.

* * *

 _Okay... so not such a quick update as I had hoped- Albus/Zoey date scene was challenging, because I hope you're not too disappointed but it's too early for either of them to be lovey-dovey. Albus doesn't have the confidence and Zoey doesn't have the romantic maturity, though I hope you've gotten more of a glean into how she really is a serious person despite her bubbly attitude._

 _As always, Read & Review! they really make my day/life!_

 _~E_

 _(ps- a friend of mine has started writing her own stories. first ones ever not just on Fanfiction, so if ya'll have a minute to give her feedback her author name is_ Ardoa88 _and that would make you an amazing person!)_


	19. Ch 19 Halloween

**Ch 19- Halloween**

* * *

At last, after much anticipation, Halloween was finally here. Lysander had never been so eager to get through a holiday before- he was practically sick of the color orange and the smell of pumpkins. He bit into a waffle with his usual dispassion, more interested in reading the theories behind _priori incantatem_ than actual nourishment but knowing that if his Quidditch Captain caught him skipping a single meal the day before a match, she was more than willing to force-feed him.

The murmurings in the Great Hall grew a bit in volume and he frowned, finding he had to reread a sentence due to the distraction. If it got much worse he would readily surround himself with a silencing charm. He had come to breakfast early to avoid the largest of groups; the Professors weren't even awake for breakfast yet. He should not have to deal with excessive gossiping for another hour.

A few moments later Zoey's voice said "Morning Sandy" as she sat beside him.

He grunted in his usual manner and flipped the page, too engrossed for conversation but certainly extremely annoyed with the conversations of his housemates that only seemed to be increasing in volume.

Zoey didn't say anything more, but judging by the sounds coming from his right she was choosing to have pancakes this morning, and drowning it in syrup. She didn't distract him with a single question. He waited for her to ask about the pumpkins that were floating over their heads- whether they had replaced the candles or surrounded them, if they were all cut differently or exactly the same, or if someone had designed each individually and if so, who?

Not a single one of the questions he'd expected was posed, and not for the first time Lysander wondered if Zoey could tell when he was seriously interested in his reading material rather than just keeping his mind busy. She was full of endless curiosity, but it never seemed to arise at times like the present moment when Lysander could feel an epiphany or a theory was slowly piecing together in his mind, about to form, demanding his deep and unbroken concentration…

"Which one?" A deep, almost unrecognizable voice growled as fists slammed the table, making all the silverware clatter.

He clenched his jaw in annoyance at the incident that had stopped the flow of his thoughts. Lysander glanced up at the culprit, then jerked his gaze up to stare in surprise. Albus Potter was towering over them, looking over their heads and practically oozing a vile, contemptuous anger that made everyone lean back.

"Umm…" Zoey sounded about as confused as he felt. "Al? What is it?"

"Which snake did that to you?" Albus spoke in a growl again, still staring behind them. Other people were starting to stand behind him, a wall of aggression directed at Slytherin table. Rose Weasley stood at the edge of the crowd, but she was looking at Albus more than anything else.

"Did what?" Lysander asked in shock, knowing it was very rare for Albus to pin an unfortunate occurrence on Slytherins. Unlike his older brother James, who pointed to them for every problem. He glanced over his shoulder to see how the prideful House was reacting, only to notice something from the corner of his eye. A blur of green in the midst of Ravenclaw blue and bronze.

He turned to Zoey in a rare moment of shock, looking her up and down. For once Zoey's hair was the only normal part of her appearance, an innocuous brown. Something had turned her lips a startling red, lined her eyes with a royal purple and turned her skin a deep emerald green. Slytherin green.

She didn't seem to be in pain or feeling ill. In fact, Zoey was smiling at the expression of shock on his face. "Happy Halloween Sandy. Where's your costume?"

He frowned, repeating in confusion "Costume?"

"Yeah," Zoey's eyebrows drew together. "You know, trick or treat?"

"Sorry- what? A costume?" Albus interrupted, his anger fading a bit.

"Yeees," Zoey nodded slowly, looking at the crowd behind him. "I'm Elphaba, Wicked Witch of the West."

The name obviously meant something to some of the gathering crowd of people, and as they groaned there was a wide variation of emotions from amusement to anger.

Lysander thought back through the many pseudonyms of famous Witches throughout history but still didn't recognise it. "Who?"

"From _The Wizard of Oz_? 'I'll get you my pretties, and your little dog too'?" She said the quote in a high, cackling voice, and a few more people made expressions of recognition.

"The muggle story?" someone called, "They turned your skin green because of a muggle story?"

"They? Who are- oh," Zoey followed their gazes to the table behind her, finding a matching wall of Slytherins stares that had arisen against the accusing glares directed at them. She looked between their expressions with growing unease. She had the growing inkling that she'd somehow walked into a minefield. "Um, I don't know what the lot of you are thinking, but Slytherins don't actually have a monopoly on the color green…"

"So... " Albus's voice had become very, very small with embarrassment as he asked "So they didn't hex your skin green to see if you were a squib?"

"No, I turned my skin green. For Halloween. Trick or treat." Zoey frowned, asking her own question "See if I'm a what? A 'squid'?"

Albus looked mortified, glancing to Lysander for help. Unfortunately, the Ravenclaw Prefect was more distracted by the way wands were starting to find their ways out of pockets and into hands. A fight was brewing and he could not be distracted with personal drama- not even Albus's. He sensed more than saw the Slytherins moving, some of them stepping forward while others stepped aside, not some but all of their hands holding wands.

Priscilla Parkinson hadn't even stood up, but as she lazily pulled out her wand and set it by her butter knife people from all Houses backed away nervously. It was the Slytherin next to her though who took a stand and said "So, since you lot don't have a reason to lynch us today, why don't you go mob a real culprit, like the bigot that told you to blame us."

"Oi," Rupert, the Hufflepuff Prefect, stepped forward in Albus's defense. "What else would you expect him to think Zambini? You people have been targeting the kids from the _Scandal's_ list all week."

Marcellous Zambini went red in the face, but couldn't bring himself to deny it. That squib list had put a target on the back of every name there- and it wasn't just Slytherins picking on the supposed squibs, but they were certainly being the most persistent. He hadn't even been able to get Melissa to come out of the Hospital Wing, where she'd been sleeping every night since the secret school paper was publicized.

"Hold on a second-" Zoey cut through the tension as she considered the situation, standing up slowly with her own frown of disapproval at the assortment of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. "You just assumed that because my skin was green, I was hexed? And you decided that the Slytherins just had to be responsible? Are- are you _insane?_ "

Protests from Slytherins was to be expected, but at the chiding of a more respected house the confidence of the group dwindled, a few people trying to go back to their seats without being noticed. Rose was one of the ones that succeeded.

"Well based on the color-" Someone finally protested, and Zoey zoomed in on him.

"'Based on the color', the first kind of person you should look for is someone as stupid as you are." Zoey hissed vehemently. "What sort of moron would be so obvious as to chose a color that points straight back to them? Do you think they'd be so blatant? If anything, the lot of you should have been looking at each other as suspects."

"But, but they…" Albus was trying not to take the 'moron' thing personally but found it rather hard to do, horribly aware of how right she was. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear through a hole in the floor.

Zoey spun on her heel to face the Slytherins, looking until she found Marianngela Zambini and Marcel Avery, sitting a few tables away. "Sorry," she said quietly, then rose her voice and she said it again in the quiet hall "I'm sorry."

The Slytherins now looked just as confused as the rest of the hall was.

"Why are you _apologizing?"_ someone hissed, and Zoey's shoulders tensed.

"Because. Because, that is the right thing to do when it is your fault someone has been treated unfairly. The better question," her voice was laden with tightly-controlled anger as she turned around again, her green skin practically glowing. "Is why aren't _you_ apologizing? Don't you care that you jumped to a conclusion so far off the mark that you made yourselves into complete fools? Look at you! Standing there like you're about to start a fight! You should be ashamed!"

A number of them put their wands away quickly.

"I'll admit we should have asked you first," Daniel said, his Gryffindor Prefect badge glinting next to the Head Boy pin as he folded his arms. "But we weren't that far of the mark. They're _Slytherins."_

"And that's enough of a reason to hate them? To distrust them? God, you're like the world hating German kids for generations after World War II!"

Once again, her words only impacted the people that knew muggle lore.

Seeing this Zoey growled under her breath, moving to a different tactic. "I don't know why the lot of you are thick enough to hate people based on- based on a _color,_ of all idiotic things, but I'll have you know it is perfectly possible to love a Slytherin too. I do."

The Great Hall quieted with such abruptness it was like a physical blow. Priscilla looked at her sharply; that was quite a lot of pride in that statement.

"Wh-" Albus recovered his voice first, immediately thinking of Scorpius Malfoy and speaking around what felt like a boulder that was suddenly lodged in his stomach. "Who do you mean?"

Her green eyes met his and she lifted her chin, even as Lysander saw her grip the table so tightly her knuckles turned a light lime green instead of dark emerald.

"My Mother."

Albus breathed a sigh of relief, but he was the only one. Nobody else moved. Nobody dared _breath_ under her gaze, which was practically daring them try to challenge her affection for the woman that had birthed and raised her.

The door to the Great Hall opened and Jonovan Orion walked in, wrapped in bandages from toe to shoulder. He paused in the doorway, looking between the two groups of hostile students and his gaze narrowing as he saw Zoey standing in the middle.

"Is there a problem?" His voice echoed as though amplified as he walked in, though he hadn't used a wand.

Albus broke his gaze from Zoey's and was about to answer the History of Magic Assistant when one girl screamed, and another joined in. Orion's progress was halted as a mob of his fangirls swarmed him, trying to find his injury and yammering-

"What happened?"

"Does it hurt something awful?"

"Can we help?"

"I'll nurse you!"

Rasputin hissed violently and bit at the first girl that reached forward to touch his master, narrowly missing her finger. His growls grew louder with disappointment. She screamed a moment and jumped back, and the others gave him some breathing room too.

Making a note to give Raz a treat after this was dealt with, Orion swiftly corrected their misunderstanding. "I am not injured, girls, I am dressed as a mummy- it's a muggle tradition, to dress as something dangerous and magical for Halloween. I grew up with it." His swift gaze gathered the lack of costume attire in the Hall, and he smiled at his fans so brightly Gilderoy Lockhart would have been overshone. "To be honest girls I've been hoping for a piece of home lately, and a Halloween like I'm used to might lift my spirits. Would you help me celebrate? It's a lot of fun."

"Oh- oh yes! Of course we will!" A swarm of his fans ran off to do as he asked, grabbing their muggleborn friends for help learning what they should do to perform this muggle tradition properly.

Lysander looked back at Zoey, seeing that the transfer was literally trembling from the high emotions she'd been wielding. He put his book away and stood up, the first to speak in the dead air heavy with aggression. "I think this is a wonderful opportunity to help the new Assistant feel welcome in Hogwarts. Zoey, would you help me get a costume for today?"

Zoethia Malam took a deep breath, and when she released it she seemed to shove all her negative emotions out with it. She smiled at Lysander in gratitude for his support, a bounce in her step as she stepped away from the table. "Of course. Anyone else want a hand getting something together?"

She caught the gaze of a few Ravenclaws at their table, and after a moment they stood, their courage bolstered to follow the example their Quidditch Keeper and House Prefect. After them a few more people joined in as well. Lysander stayed at the back of the group that trailed off to follow Zoey back to their Tower before the first class of the day, looking at Albus and the people that were still standing in confrontation with Slytherin table.

"She's right." Lysander said gently, like he was explaining something to a child. "You should feel ashamed."

Albus dropped his gaze to the floor, walking away without even pretending to disagree.

Marcellous Zambini released a breath of tension as the Ravenclaws left, the crowd dispersing back to their House tables for the rest of breakfast or out the door to join in the costume celebration. He still waited a little longer to put his wand away and sit down once more. "Well. What do you make of that?"

He wasn't looking for an answer, but he got one anyways. Priscila Parkinson laced her fingers together and put her chin atop her knuckles, watching Zoey leave with keen eyes. "She's got guts."

Zambini did a double-take at her. That was about as close as Priscilla ever got to giving a compliment. "What?"

"If she had a bit more self-preservation, she might have made a decent Slytherin." Again, this kind of back-handed praise was the best Pricilla ever spoke of a person.

"S-self-preservation?" Zambini wondered if he'd never woken up this morning and was just dreaming this entire ordeal. He pinched himself to be sure and winced.

"Wasn't it obvious?" Priscilla smirked at his gobsmacked expression, picking up her bag and leaving after she announced "Zoey Malam just tied her own noose."

* * *

"You're joking," Roxanne said in a whisper-hiss, gaping at Lorcan.

"I'm dead serious," Lorcan assured her, "There was almost a fight in the Great Hall over breakfast, but Zoey stopped it by siding with the _Slytherins."_

A Ravenclaw, siding with those snakes? Yeah, that would definitely stop a building brawl short. "What was it over?" She asked curiously, but the only answer was a shrug.

"Dunno. It got hushed when Orion stepped in, supposedly."

"Is that also when he started… this?" Roxanne gestured around the classroom with a trace of nervousness. Near every girl there was wearing some kind of costume, cat ears and devil horns and halos popping out of near everybody's hair.

Orion himself was wrapped in loose bandages to look like a mummy as he stood behind Professor Binns' unused desk, preparing for class to officially start.

"It's almost scary how many girls followed his lead. Even James would have had trouble getting this many to follow him- and it's not even lunch yet!"

Rox agreed completely, glancing at James's empty desk. He was skipping History of Magic today in preparation for tonight. They'd given Orion the usual note from Healer Prin and had gotten a cold, calculating look in response- she shivered as she remembered it. She would bet her wand that the Assistant knew it had been fake, but he'd taken it anyways and that's what they needed. Thinking about it, she'd make the same wager that all the Professors knew notes regarding James's health were fake, but Orion had reacted differently.

"Mister Lorcan-" The Assistant's voice made them both start in surprise and realize that the class had started. "What is the title of the goblin leader that was publicly dunked into a pond before leading the rebellions of the 18th century?"

"Umm…" Lorcan's face scrunched, then it cleared with apparent awe as he realized he _actually_ knew the answer. "Urg the Unclean." He remembered because it was ironic, since he'd been dunked in water and all.

He wasn't the only one surprised; they entire room turned and stared at him for a good five seconds before the Assistant regained their attention. "Well done. Catch."

Roxanne intercepted the small candy that was lobbed at him, looking at it in wonder. She didn't recognise it, so it wasn't a _Wizard Wheezes_ candy. Maybe it was something new from Honeydukes?

"Mix Roanne, you did not earn that- give it to him and answer me: what is the motivation behind the giant territory movement?"

She remembered this one. It had been in practically their first lesson of the year. "Space- if Giants live too close together it leads to unnecessary and unending fights. By expanding their territory that can be avoided."

Another candy was tossed in their direction, once again a brand they didn't recognize, then he went back to his lesson.

Lorcan and Roxanne looked at their wrappers with interest, trying to guess what they did from their names.

Lorcan looked at his square in confusion, speaking in their usual whisper "What kind of star do you think this bursts?"

"I dunno," she whispered back, also looking at hers instead of the board. "And isn't cheering potions banned from food stuffs?"

He shrugged, tucking it into his pocket and pulling out a sheet of paper to pass notes with her.

They were halfway into the lesson when Orion noticed that despite having passed out a number of candies in the spirit of Halloween, not a single one of his students was eating any. "Do you not like candy?" he asked the latest recipient curiously.

"Um… no, I do, sir." Abram held his at arms length. "But sir, I don't want my tootsie to… um… pop."

The room echoed with smothered laughter.

"Ah," Orion said with a slight twitch of his own lips. "Well, Mister Abram, how about this- if you try it, I'll excuse you from tonight's homework assignment?"

The boy couldn't get the wrapper off fast enough- Orion was ruthless about homework, giving half a page every night and known to keep students hostage at the end of a week until they made up all of their missed assignments. It was only after it was in his mouth that he remembered his worry and Abram froze, his eyes wide as he awaited his impending doom. He tensed so much that he actually rose a few inches out of his seat, his face deathly pale.

This continued for a few moments until Orion took pity on his pupil. "Nothing is going to 'pop', lad, I assure you. Tastes like chocolate, right? Try chewing it."

Slowly, clearly not believing his luck, Abram moved his jaw and ate the candy, a relieved smile spreading. "It's good. Um- why's it called a 'Tootsie Pop'?"

Orion smiled, and Roxanne would swear half the other girls in the room swooned. "Because that one's a small version of the candy 'Tootsie _Rolls_ '. These are muggle candies." He said the last bit with obvious amusement.

"So…" Roxanne spoke up. "This 'Jolly Rancher' doesn't have a cheer potion?"

"Nope."

"And the starbursts don't burst anything either?"

"Not at all."

"So muggle candies just…" She didn't know how to ask the obvious, but Orion seemed to read her mind.

"...just taste good?" Orion smiled. "Precisely."

Everyone looked at each other in silent shock, too used to exploding wiz bangs and other candies that changed face colors and sent smoke out of their ears to be comfortable with trying a new concoction in public. A couple Gryffindors dared a few more bites of the various sweets, and it was only after they too were unaffected that rest of the room dared to try their own.

"This is delish," Lorcan smiled as he chewed his starburst, leaning back in his seat.

Roxanne made the mistake of trying to chew her Jolly Rancher in the same manner, only to find that really wasn't the best of ideas. "Ow," she swore and put her hand over her jaw, wondering if she'd chipped a tooth. She felt with her tongue- she _had_ chipped a tooth!

Prin could fix it in an instant, she knew, so she asked for Orion's permission to go get the healer's help. It was the middle of class, but it _really_ hurt. She was still holding her jaw as she walked off, almost out the door when the Assistant said casually, "Oh Miss Roxanne? Bring Mister James's homework back with you."

She stopped in surprise. "Sir?"

"His homework." He blinked shrewdly at her. "I will need it by the end of the day; I had planned to go to the Hospital Wing at lunch, but since you are going to be seeing him bring it back with you."

Rox could have kicked herself. The dumb fake-note they'd used to excuse James's absence! The entire class was well aware that James Potter wasn't _actually_ in the Hospital Wing- and that to actually meet James and really get his homework would take Rox a suspiciously long time.

"That won't be a problem," a glint in his eye made it apparent he knew her dilemma as well, "Will it?"

"He…" She fished for a plausible excuse. "He might be asleep."

"He's family. Surely he wouldn't mind you grabbing it for him- after all, if it's not in his bag then I shall have to visit him later to be sure that he did it."

His voice held the undertone of a threat, and Rox knew she was trapped. She'd already made a big deal about wanting her tooth fixed, so she had to go- but to return without James's assignment would pin him for skipping class and herself for helping him. Morosely she wished that Lorcan had been the one to hand in the letter. Or that he'd gotten the Jolly Rancher. His candy was too soft to chip a tooth.

… had that been intentional?

"Oh, and make sure you have Prin write me a fresh note for you as well."

There went the plan for another forged excuse. Rox clenched her teeth as she walked out, ignoring the way it added to the ache of her jaw. This new Assistant was a real pain to work around.

* * *

Healer Prin was a busy man. He was always rushing around his Hospital Wing with contained urgency, snapping bedsheets into place or reorganizing shelves of medicine or- and most dreadedly- buried beneath a pile of paperwork. On this particular Halloween, he was sitting at a desk between two leaning towers of paperwork.

Marcel Zambini was barely given a wave as he walked inside, going straight to the curtains around one of the beds. He tugged on it, only for the soft fabric to stay firmly in place; the hospital curtains were enchanted for privacy, so they wouldn't open unless the person inside was awake and willing to see visitors. He sighed, not really surprised but still discouraged because of it.

"Melissa? It's me. I've got your classwork, open up." He knew his tone was borderline pleading.

Her voice, by comparison, was so soft he could barely hear it. "Are you alone?"

"Yes." _Of course._ Melissa wasn't talking to anybody else lately, not even Malfoy or Nott. Priscilla maybe, he honestly wasn't sure. Priscilla was still as much of an enigma to him as she'd been the first day they'd met.

Melissa, though, could be even harder to understand. She opened the curtains then went straight back to her cot, sliding under the thin cover. "Just leave it with the rest. My homework is-"

"-the stack on the right, yes, I know." Zambini sighed, unhappy with how routine this was becoming. "Mel, when are you going to come back to the dorm?"

She shrugged into her pillow.

"Melissa, com'on. You can't seriously be planning to stay here the rest of the year, are you?"

She shrugged again, not saying a word.

He was tempted to strangle her. "Seriously? Seriously. Okay then- just stay here. The rest of us are gonna spend the night searching the Restricted Section for a cure."

"There is no cure." Melissa whispered, sounding like the words broke her heart.

"Then we'll make one. And then we'll shove it down the throats of every brute that's been after you; maybe it'll turn _them_ into-" he cut himself off instinctively, then cursed. The only thing more insensitive than saying it was obviously trying to _not_ say it.

"Squibs." Melissa finished, "Turn them into squibs. Like me. But they won't be pureblood squibs. They'll just be normal squibs."

He felt a fury in his chest. "We'll make one, Melissa. I swear it." There wasn't much else he could say, really.

As he walked out he saw that Prin's paperwork had somehow ended up all over the floor, the man cursing as he had to re-sort it all. A Legacy redhead was furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment as he did, both of them unaware of the Slytherin leaving their midst.

He double-checked that the curtains around Melissa were closed before leaving; he wasn't about to let an enemy know their weakness.

* * *

"Happy Halloween!"

"Nice costume."

"Thanks! Happy halloween- oooh, is that one of my masks?"

"Yup!"

"Looks amazing! Happy Halloween!" Zoey stopped to celebrate the holiday with practically every Ravenclaw at their table. Of all the houses they had the best holiday costumes in her opinion- and that wasn't just because she'd had masks prepared for her housemates. Though that certainly helped her opinion.

As she walked through the Great Hall she was welcomed by her House with ease. After the almost-fiasco that morning at breakfast they has responded in the usual intellectual way- debating from an analytical viewpoint. After a little bit they'd come to the conclusion that Zoey had been right about their jumping to conclusions, and having grown accustomed to her strangeness causing upheavals in their lives moved past it fairly quickly.

Zoey was unaware of the continuing stares and occasional glares that followed her from the other houses, however. And the few she did notice made her beam with pride that her Elphaba costume was so well liked.

She sat next to a raven mask with a smile, putting some pork chops on her plate. "Hey Sandy."

"Not my name," Lysander grunted, the exchange having become their equivalent of 'hello, how are you's.

"Did you make that one?"

"Yup." If he had to wear a costume he had decided to use one that was not as childish or silly as others were wearing. He'd created an entire headdress from basically scratch, the 'beak' of the raven going forward from his forehead so that his vision remained unimpaired and he could read books and blackboards with ease. And being a Prefect of Ravenclaw, the bird had simply made sense and been an easy inspiration.

"Down to monosyllables I see. Must be a good book." Zoey smiled and went back to her food, pulling out her own notes and looking over them as she waited for Lysander to find a good pausing point in his reading.

Lysander finished the same passage he'd been reading that morning and put his bookmark on the page, looking at the younger Ravenclaw with a stern gaze. "You almost caused quite the mess this morning."

He thought he was intimidating. Zoey thought he looked nowhere near as imposing as Jon could be. "I did nothing but poke the hornet's nest. Or, snake hole, lion and badger dens, in this case. There's a lot of animals- why do their nesting habitats have such different names? You'd think they'd make an umbrella term for moments like this."

"Moments like almost sparking an explosion of decade-old feuding?"

"What? It's not that unusual."

Lysander sighed. Considering who Zoey was, she was likely being serious. She had a way of dancing through such sensitive subjects with so much obliviousness that it was a wonder she didn't incite violence more often. He put a finger on the brow of his nose, where the bridge his glasses would be if he wore them. He technically did over summers when he couldn't use spells to help him read small texts, so the habit carried through the rest of the year. He opened his eyes to catch sight of some Gryffindors staring and whispering in their direction, obviously talking about Zoey. Whether it was about her loudly expressed opinions, the muggle tradition she'd somehow inserted into the midst of their wizardly ones or her Slytherin blood Lysander had no idea, but the specifics didn't matter. They were talking about her, and it likely wasn't good.

He looked at her to see if she'd noticed, but of course she hadn't. She was eating her carrots with happy ease, checking her hand-drawn diagram of a thestral. She felt his gaze and looked up at him. "Are you ready to talk?"

How she noticed one look but not the focus of the Great Hall didn't make sense, but Lysander had gotten used to it. "About what?"

"Um… a lot." Zoey looked back down, drumming her fingers on the table nervously. "I just… I wanted to- thanks."

Lysander waited for her to get her words together.

"Thank you for- for this morning. If you hadn't joined in the costuming it probably would have been a bigger deal. And- and for a lot of other things, like answering all my questions all the time and being so patient with me. I know I'm not easy to get along with…" she gulped, her heart racing more and more as she thought about how much of a pain she must be to be around. "I mean, you need a lot of patience. And I guess it's sometimes like babysitting for you- without the actual baby, I know. I'm not that bad. But you do help me out with a lot with things I don't know and you spend a lot of time sitting and- Thanks. I'm gonna shut up now…"

Zoey finished with a mumble and what he expected was a blush underneath the green skin of her costume.

Lysander had felt his eyebrows rise at her self-awareness; he hadn't thought she had any. It seems she did know the troubles her and her personality could cause, and though he wouldn't have chosen 'babysitting' it was an apt description. She was like a problem child with incorrigibly bad habits but good intentions.

Having reached this conclusion he shrugged and looked back to his book. "You're welcome. It's no problem or hassle." If anything, having her around meant other people were less likely to interrupt him than if he were alone with his books, and Zoey was actually better at staying silent during his moments of concentration than most anyone.

Zoey grinned and threw an arm around his shoulder, giving him a hug. "Thanks Sandy."

"Don't call me that." He immediately replied, but there was a smile tugging on his lips as he did so.

* * *

Rose Weasley smiled as she relaxed in the Gryffindor Common room. The day was done, it was the end of the week, and for the first time in practically ever she didn't have to dress for Quidditch practice or waste time tutoring the transfer. She leaned back in the heavy chair with a sigh that sounded more like a groan.

She was caught up in all her essays, caught up on all the materials for the next tests, the only project she had to work on was a group project in Ancient Runes, and she needed her partners for that. She had nothing to work on- though there was always revising to do. Glancing at the clock, she realized she has so much time she could even draw a bath.

A bath. A real bath. She'd have to sneak into the Prefects bathrooms for it, but if everyone was at the feast it would be empty… her muscles relaxed at the _thought_ of soaking in warm water for an hour, floral scents wafting through the air…

She should have known even the idea of going easy on herself would be shattered momentarily.

" _Rose!_ " Roxanne's hissed voice came out of nowhere. " _Rosie, where are you?"_

With a groan she picked up her head from the nice, soft, oh-so inviting cushions. "What?"

"Woah, hey, no need to bite my head off," Roxanne pulled the Invisibility Cloak off her shoulders after she'd made sure they were alone for the moment.

Gritting her teeth, Rose wished that were actually possible. "What're you doing here? You should be outside the Tower by now."

"Right, well, about that…"

 _This can't be good,_ Rose inwardly groaned. _Why can't it ever be something good?_

"I have detention. On _Halloween._ "

" _What!_ From who?"

"The Assistant." Rox practically spat, sitting on the couch beside her cousin with a huff. "He broke my tooth and sent me to the hospital wing and wanted me to get James's homework while I was there, but of course he wasn't there so I had to turn in mine with his name and a bunch of spelling mistakes."

Blink. "What?" One word, three times, in one conversation. Rose was struggling to follow her friend's story but the main message was clear, "So you can't get into the Tower tonight?"

"Any moment now Orion's rat is gonna track me down and watch me until I give him the assignment. Lysander's not gonna help me- it'll take ages!"

"Murtlap." Rose corrected automatically, feeling a knot form in the pit of her stomach as she realised where Rox was going with this.

"Whatever!" She threw her hands in the air, then remembered they were holding something. She pushed the silky fabric of the Invisibility Cloak onto Rose's lap. "So, since I'm under rodent house arrest, you need to go with James and Lor."

"WHAT!?" Make that four times in one conversation. Rose jumped three feet off the couch, holding the cloak out like it was a piece of contraband viable to explode. Or worse, send her to prison for thirty years. "But- I can't- this wasn't the plan!"

"Plans change!" Roxanne jumped to her feet as well, doing her best to calm her cousin and glancing nervously between the stairs to the dorms and the fat lady's portrait.

"Not _my_ plans!" She threw the offending item down, despite its undoubtedly vast significance and rich heritage and general importance. "James's plans- yes. Lorcan's plans, of course. But not _my_ plans. The boys can just do it themselves."

"No they can't!" Rox's voice gained an edge of panic now too. "For one thing- they're boys, they _never_ get it right."

Hard to argue with that…

"For another- they're _boys!_ They can get in the Ravenclaw Tower, but they won't reach the girl's dorms! It was _my_ job to actually find something, but since I can't it literally _has_ to be you! No one else knows!" The last part she whispered, realizing their voices were beginning to carry.

 _Really_ hard to argue with that. Several of her father's choice swear words flitted through her mind, but the one that came out was the only one her mom ever let him say. "Bloody hell," Rose was surprised by how relieving it was to swear aloud and actually _mean_ it, "I have to do everything, don't I?"

Still thinking in terms of tonight, Roxanne nodded readily. "Exactly."

Rose scowled and pulled on the Invisibility Cloak to hide the unattractive expression that no doubt marred her features. "Where are they meeting?"

"Fourth four corridor, the secret room by the-" she cut herself off as the portrait opened, and Rasputin waddled in with a toothy grin. Even though he was only the size and talent of an average rat, both girls would swear there was a glint of abnormal intelligence in its beady gaze.

"...suits of armor…" Rox finished in a whisper as she backed up, as always unnerved by the magical creature Orion kept as a familiar. It followed her steadily until she sat at a table and pulled out her books, a light sheen of sweat forming on her upper lip as she started the essay. Sooner she did the sooner this creepy rodent would be gone.

Remembering Albus's suspicions that the Cloak didn't work on animals, Rose tried to walk with a combination of stealth and naturalness in case of either eventuality. As she reached the portrait though she agreed with his assessment; Razputin's beady eyes had seemed to watch every step she took until the Fat Lady closed behind her with a _hempf_.

"Bloody hell."

* * *

The Library was silent. Of course, it often was- but this was a different kind of silence. This silence was an absence of life, a lack of another living soul in the vicinity. Scorpius Malfoy grinned; it was perfect. Not even the professors expected people _here_ on the night of the Halloween Feast. He motioned Nott and Zambini forward, watching their backs just in case as they moved along the bookcases to the infamous Restricted Section.

They didn't run into a soul, living or dead- the Ghosts were all at the Feast as well. Peeves hadn't even been seen all day. As he broke the last ward protecting the Restricted Section, Scorpius hoped that bit of luck would hold out.

He pulled the list of books out of his pocket. Hoping to make the most of their time, he tore it into three sections and passed one to Nott and Zambini. He'd listed any title's relating to unusually weak or unusually strong wizards, thinking at the least they might have a comparative reference that could point their research in the right direction. "Meet back here in thirty minutes. Go."

They scattered, sticking to the shadows of the shelves and blending in with ease. Scorpius quickly lost sight of them, but was too focused on his own progress as he kept an eye out for any further magical wards he might come across. If they got caught here there'd be no possible excuse that could save them from Sybbles' wrath.

He pulled down the title _Great and Grateful,_ then all but sneered and tossed it away when he saw Gildoroy Lockhar'ts trademark grin on the front cover. He should have known a title that cheesy had been written by that fop. He'd bet an obsessed fan put it in here, with no consideration of the actual contents. At the last moment though he remembered exactly how magical this library was and dutifully put it back in its correct spot, moving on to the next one down the shelf.

Ten minutes later he was tempted to chuck _Weak Wizards, the World of Plague_ as well. He hadn't exactly had high hopes based on the title, but the level of disregard this author had for squibs was inhumane. It was full of borderline torturous 'treatments' that never had a chance of working, one of which called a lobotomy was quoted from a muggle reference.

That was the point at which he slammed the heavy tome shut and, quite vindictively, locked it before shoving it back in its place. Then he pulled it back out, cast a charm on the lock to jam it for what he could only hope would be all of eternity before shoving away again, making the entire shelf sway from the force.

He checked his watch and cursed- that had been way more than ten minutes. Or maybe it'd taken them longer to breach the library wards than expected; either way he didn't have nearly as much time as he'd planned to look through the last book on his list. In fact, he should probably be heading back to meet the guys now.

…Malfoys never quit till a job got done. He rushed his way to one of the back shelves, climbing up a ladder to find a book that claimed to be a copy of Merlin's Memoire. _The_ Merlin. If there were ever a stronger wizard, he'd like to know. Gingerly pulling it off the shelf and treating it with far more respect than any other book that night, Scorpius looked at the faded words with a critical eye and concluded that if it was fake, it was done well.

Even the foreward looked as old as it was supposed to be, old english and cursive script and everything:

 _This Chronicle tis the tale of the reknown Merlin, a Great Wizard who risked exposing us all to protect his dear friend Arthur Pemberton, loyal Steward of cruel King John. Despite the many who find fault with him now, I belive there may be some such as thou, o reader, who may find interest in the truth. Though I may only depict his tale till the eve of his disappearance after his battle with Mordred, one of the darkest Sorcerers ever known. Merlin was not born in the castle, nor was he born in servitude to Stewart Pemberton. His given name was Emrys, and he was born but a peasant. Like all wizards he was naturally raised far from Royalty…_

Looked like a lot of the famous tales had things wrong. No 'King' Arthur of England, though he supposed anyone versed in Muggle history would know that. Nonetheless the half paragraph bothered him, so he read it again. And again. And on the third time he realized the phrase that was bothering him.

 _...depicts his disappearance after his battle with Mordred, one of the darkest Sorcerers ever known…_

...He had no idea there were any claims of Merlin being defeated…

 _Mordred, one of the darkest Sorcerers ever known._

 _One of the darkest Sorcerers._

 _Mordred, a Sorcerer._ Scorpius felt his eyes widen, finally realizing what bothered him. 'Sorcery' was a muggle term. Made up to go with their silly stories of gentle dragons and cute fairies that sprinkled flying dust.

Sorcery didn't exist.

There was only Witchcraft. And Wizardry.

...wasn't there?

* * *

 _Dun dun DUN! Hope the wait was worth it; we've got sooo many people sneaking around next chapter- Slytherins in the library. Gryffindors in Ravenclaw Tower. Zoey and Orion- oops, ya'll don't know that yet._

 _But you will soon!_

 _~E_


	20. Ch 20 Undercover

**Ch 20- Undercover**

 _This chapter was sooooo much fun to write! I know I normally leave my notes for the end but I wanted to thank you all for reading with me! This is my favorite chapter yet, so please let me know what you think with a review!_

* * *

This was bad. So bad. So, _so_ bad of a thing she was doing, Rose kept thinking even as she continued up the Ravenclaw Tower stairs under the Invisibility Cloak with her cousin James. Since when was she such a bad person? She was breaking at least fifty school rules right now, not the least of which was willfully aiding and abetting known troublemakers, and soon to become actual thievery.

She swallowed audibly, "Why are we doing this again?"

"Sh! Now is not the time to get cold feet, Rosie!" James hissed instead of answering her question, focusing on not tripping up the steep stairwell.

Lorcan jumped at the noise and glared at them, a look greatly enhanced by the raven mask he was wearing. "Now's not the time to get caught, either! Pipe down already!" Grumbling, he turned and adjusted Lysander's Ravenclaw robes on his shoulders. Despite being twins their frames were a little different, though he doubted anyone could actually see the difference. He certainly felt it though, like he was borrowing a suit just half a size smaller. And the blue lining on the robes was just weird after being used to red all the time.

But, he knew, it was a perfect way to sneak into the Tower. There were benefits to being the bad twin; one of which was going undercover as the good twin. And people not batting an eye when he steals the personalized, magical mask of the good twin right in front of the whole Great Hall. Lysander hadn't even thought much of it, just gone back to his book with his usual dispassion.

He adjusted the beak of the raven and approached the door knocker, hitting it nervously. This was the one part that could ruin their plan; if the Eagle gave a riddle they couldn't figure out, they'd be stuck. Horribly.

The bronze face came to life and spoke "I'm so fast you can't see me, Though everyone sees straight through me. I don't stop until the day you die. What Am I?"

"Urm…" Lysander would know this. Totally. Lorcan though glanced at Rose and James- or at least where he expected them to be- and then said "Nothing?"

The Eagle looked at him with disapproval, then hardened again.

"No!" Rose groaned, "Stupid, the answer to a riddle is never 'nothing'!"

James cursed as well, looking around the corner. "Just have to give it another guess, then. Lor, is anyone coming toward the Tower?"

The disguised Gryffindor frowned. "How would I know?"

"Using the Map, genious."

Lorcan paled. "I thought you had it."

"Why would I have it? I'm under the Cloak!"

Rose groaned; they had just had to prove Roxanne right by forgetting to bring the Marauder's Map. She really did have to do everything, didn't she? "I'll give it a go," she muttered and stepped out from under the cloak, knocking on the eagle.

Because she'd been hidden by the Invisibility Cloak, it viewed her as a fresh riddler and therefore opened its mouth. "I'm so fast you can't see me, Though everyone sees straight through me. I won't stop until the day you die. What Am I?"

After a moment she looked over at Lorcan. "But- it just gave that one."

"Yeah." He muttered. "And it'll keep giving it until someone guesses right. Go on. Answer."

"Um…" Rose blinked and swallowed again. She didn't know. Obviously, this wasn't _really_ a good riddle. Real riddles were supposed to be about logic and theories and stuff, not a wild guessing game. And with Lorcan's silly 'nothing' answer bouncing around in her head she couldn't think of anything better. It was ruining her detecting skills. She tried to stall for time, "It's complicated…"

"It's simple and easy," a smooth voice disagreed with her, making her turn to see a Ravenclaw student came up the stairs. The tall boy was black haired with sharp features, a small crease between his brown eyes the only expressive part of his face. And he was frowning at Rose. "But why is a Gryffindor trying to enter here?"

Rose froze nervously, staring at him like a deer in headlights. "Um… you see…"

"We're picking something up for Christine," Lorcan cut in with the smooth ease of a practiced liar, keeping the beak of his raven costume between his eyes and the newcomer's.

"Ah." The boy said, looking between the two as he continued up the staircase. James held his breath and pressed into the wall. Just because he was invisible didn't mean that he couldn't be walked into.

It was so close that he felt a tug on the fabric as the boy walked by, but walk by he did. The Ravenclaw knocked, the eagle gave the riddle for a third time, and he answered without hesitation "You are a blink."

Rose's mouth dropped open. That was almost as bad a guess as 'nothing'.

"Can't see it, can see through it, and stops when you die. My next guess would be breathe, but the initial wording implies that there's a bigger difference depending on first or second points of view."

As if in agreement the bronze knocker closed and opened its eyes once before closing them permanently and opening the door. "A blink?" Rose muttered incredulously, "How is that riddle a good password?"

"Kept you out," the boy said dismissively as he took his shoes off, adding them to the pile by the door. "Didn't it?"

She felt her face flame, but James's invisible hand gripped her wrist and pulled none too lightly. "Focus," he whispered as loud as he dared. If Rose got into an argument with this bloke they'd lose their chance to find something before more people returned from the feast.

Lorcan walked her to the bottom of the girl's staircase and then picked up a book from the Ravenclaw Tower's private library. He might look like his twin brother Lysander, but Lorcan didn't sound like his smarter sibling and certainly couldn't talk like him. Opening his mouth for an extended period of time would be tantamount to confessing. Reading- or at least pretending to- would be the best way to dissuade the other Ravenclaw from attempting conversation.

Fortunately, the other boy seemed just as interested in reading material, pulling out a towering stack of books before he even started on the first. Rose was impressed by the private library amassed by Ravenclaw house, but there was a deplorable lack of organization on the shelves and far too many unofficial 'books' that looked like they'd been written by the students themselves.

James gave Rose another invisible shove, and then she was nervously walking up the stairs to the Ravenclaw dorms. Each step on the plush carpet echoed in her ears like a death toll, ringing with all the reasons she shouldn't be doing this. She paused halfway up the landing, looking down wistfully.

"What's wrong?" James asked, glancing back at the Ravenclaw boy with a light curse. If he hadn't been here there wouldn't be need for this Cloak or whispering.

"I just…" she gulped. "Are you sure?"

"Com'on Rose! You're the only one who can." James told her, knowing exactly what to say. "We need you."

Her eyes flickered in the direction of his invisible form for a moment, then she lifted her chin and nodded, going up the stairs to find Zoethia Malam's bedroom.

* * *

"He's late," Zambini mumbled for what felt like the hundredth time as he peered between the dark shelves of the seemingly endless Restricted Section. As the sun set the darkness of the library was quickly becoming overwhelming. A few sparse torches flickered in the hall to light a path for teacher and Prefect night patrols, but here, in the library, there was only a single lantern at the entrance. In the back shelves, it was easy to imagine the flickering shadows as shapes, a professor or the caretaker-elf prepared to jump from the shadows and catch them red-handed.

"I know that," Nott answered just as softly even as he checked his own watch anyways. Professor Sybble would be doing a bed check any moment now, and if the boys weren't there there'd be hell to pay. They needed time to reach the dungeons. He looked at the doorway, then back at Zambini and asked "Should we?"

It was no surprise that they were both considering whether they should just leave him on his own. They were Slytherins, after all. They all looked after priority number one first. It was more surprising that they'd waited this long already.

It spoke to how valuable Malfoy's allegiance was to them. Or maybe that was just an excuse to help their friend. Either way, they'd have to make a choice any moment now.

Zambini shifted his weight nervously, watching the shadows. "What if he blames us?"

"He'd have to be caught first," Nott snorted derisively at the possibility.

"Sybble will know he was _somewhere_ tonight, though. He could pin it on us!"

"He wouldn't. It's not like that'd work, anyways- Sybble would just leave us all in trouble."

He whimpered a bit, spinning when the shadow he'd been eyeing moved with the curtains. Then an impossibly loud _bang!_ echoed between the bookshelves. Both of them jumped and took cover under the study tables- they were taking cover, _not_ hiding- until they were certain that nothing else was going to happen.

Putting a hand over his racing heart as they stood up from the ground, Zambini looked at his friend as he waited for the verdict.

The choice was made for them as Malfoy abruptly turned the corner, almost running into them in his haste to get back to the dorms. After a moment of mutual shock he scoffed and bonked Zambini on the head.

"What're you waiting for? Move." He commanded, but without any real bite to the tone.

They glanced at eachother before going after him, wondering how much of the conversation he'd overheard.

Malfoy lead them unerringly through the hallways despite the lack of light, his hand in his pocket as he thought back to the book he'd found with a frown. The Merlin, being defeated by someone, _anyone_ at all- and by someone who'd claimed to be a sorcerer, not a wizard. It was mindboggling.

He's tried to read as much of the book as he could, finding the highlights. Back in that era, wizards and witches were far more secluded from Muggles than even now. Any magic user had been labeled as a druid and soothsayer, whether or not they had the gift of an all-seeing eye. The young Merlin, who was apparently called 'Emrys' at the time, was almost killed during a royal boar hunt. At the last moment though Arthur slayed the beast, saving his life and tending his wounds in secret.

Unwittingly the young Arthur had saved the entire society of wizards with his silence. Had it been discovered that had accidentally set foot in the royal forests during their wanderings they would have been executed. Or at least, the muggle knights would have attempted to execute them. Anyways, from that day on he'd gained Emrys's loyalty. Emrys left the forests to repay Arthur, but he did so against the wishes of his elders and was exiled from his family.

That was when he took the name 'Merlin'.

Mordred 'the sorcerer', from what Scorpius had gathered, had also been exiled but from a different group of magic-users. He was a bastard child of one of the nobles and had embarked on a one-man crusade to demolish all he could of England's ruling class. According to the memoir, he could have succeeded if not for Merlin.

He'd only gotten that far before a chill permeated his bones as a voice sang in off-tune notes " _Oh what fun- a boy is being dumb. Watch him leave and he'll be done~_ "

Scorpius had paused mid-step and halfway through flipping the old page, looking up at the familiar voice. Gritting his jaw and standing wearily, he saw Peeves floating just ahead of him. The poltergeist was glowing a soft blue in the dim light and smiling impossibly wide.

He hadn't seen Peeves in a while; was he still a 'friend', or was Peeves here to expose him?

"Snottgrout would find it fun as well," he said, his words all teeth as he floated closer to Scorpius.

He had instinctively taken a few steps back in response, then looked down in surprise. When had he gotten off the ladder? A few more steps forward and he would have triggered the library wards, landing himself in detention and ruining his record of success. He glanced at the memoir, then closed it with a frown. Was this book cursed in some way to captivate its readers, or was he seriously so tired he'd forgotten that?

Maybe he'd been pushing himself too much, Scorpius mused as they reached the dungeons. Not only had he almost walked out of the Restricted Section with an unchecked book, but he had failed to notice Peeves until the poltergeist had spoken up.

He hadn't noticed the glowing, floating pest of Hogwarts. There was a small chance Peeves hadn't been there that long, but it was small. It was more likely that Scorpius was either tired or slipping, and Scorpius refused to believe he was slipping.

...but maybe joining Nott at the Dueling Club from time to time couldn't hurt.

The trio slowed to match the pace of a few other stragglers leaving the feast late, walking slowly and slowing their breath. In a few moments when they turned the corner they'd pick up the pace again, because any Slytherin who didn't rush to meet Sybble's schedule was just begging for detention.

"We struck out," Nott reported, eager to know if the night had been worth their venture. Zambini was watching with hope in his eyes as well.

"I found _something_ ," Scorpius admitted after a moment, "But I didn't get a good enough look at it."

They deflated visibly. "Damn. It'll be hard to sneak in again."

"No sneaking required," Scorpius smirked, looking over them both. "We just need unrestricted access to the Restricted Section."

Nott laughed at the idea. "As if that even exists."

Zambini caught on quicker for once, narrowing his gaze. "Wait…"

"Oh but it does exist. Someone already has it," Scorpius smiled a Salazar grin, adjusting the cuffs of his robes. "And I plan to take it from her."

* * *

Everyone was always in the dumps the day after a holiday; after the rush and excitement was over, there was not one person immune to what Zoey called the 'holiday mourning period', and so breakfast the next day was notedly quieter than usual. Or at least, that's what she would have called it if she were anywhere to be found.

Jonovan Orion frowned as he looked through the crowds in the Great Hall the morning of November 1st. He couldn't see Zoey anywhere. Of course, she could just be blending in for once since her hair should be her normal color still. He tapped his plate for a moment, then slid his gaze to his left shoulder, where Rasputin was waiting as always.

"Can you find her for me?"

The murtlap paused his breakfast and met his master's gaze, then nodded before he scurried off to do as he was bade. Quite a few people moved out of his way and lifted their feet off the ground, used to the sight of Rasputin on the prowl.

It took Jon a few more bites of bacon to realize what had just happened; Raz had nodded. _Nodded._ That was unbelievably human. Jon had long ago realized his familiar was smarter than average, but he wasn't that smart. Or at least, he certainly hadn't been when they got him from Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley.

He should keep a closer eye on that, he decided as he watched his familiar scour the hall for Zoey.

Rasputin searched the giant room diligently, ignoring many of the people he passed since he could tell by scent alone they weren't his second master. She wasn't at her usual table, so he moved on to the others.

Roxanne Weasley was happily eating her breakfast when she felt Rasputin scurry over her foot, and she jumped with a scream, almost falling into Lorcan's lap.

He chuckled and caught her with ease, leaving his arm around her waist as they glared at the magical rodent. "Want me to squish it?"

Rasputin stopped walking, looked at them over his shoulder and bared his teeth in obvious challenge.

White as a sheet, Rox quickly shook her head until the Orion's familiar resumed his wandering. "That thing creeps me out," she confessed, keeping her feet off the floor and leaning against Lor to keep her balance.

"You look almost as bad as Rose," he teased, looking over at the other girl in question.

Rose Weasley looked like the walking dead. Her hair was tangled and obviously unbrushed, she kept jumping at every footstep, and there were dark circles the sizes of Galleons under her eyes.

"Whose fault do you think that is?" she groused, lifting a dark gaze toward Roxanne and Lorcan in turn. "Not only did _you_ pin your job on me, but _you_ and James abandoned me when a patrol came!"

Roxanne joined in on the accusing glare toward Lorcan.

He raised his free hand. "In my defense, we thought you knew about that secret passage."

"Well obviously you were wrong. How am I supposed to know about a passage that's supposed to be a _secret_?" Rose scowled. She had been dead lucky she hadn't been caught.

"Which one was that?" Rox asked, looking at Lorcan.

"The sixth floor crest tapestry."

"Really? I thought everyone knew that one." Rox looked at Rose with something resembling pity. Lorcan smirked triumphantly.

"I saved your mission last night. You two should be _groveling_ with gratitude."

Roxanne considered actually doing that just to make fun of Rose, then she remembered that Rasputin was still running around down there and decided against it. "Oh right- what did you find? Any juicy information?"

"She did even better," Lorcan said with obvious embellishment. "She got a picture."

"Oh I'll bet Christine Creevy loved that. What were they doing?"

"It wasn't enchanted yet," Rose said with pride, "But I just had this feeling about it, you know? It was of her and Orion, so I grabbed it and we dunked it in the photograph potion."

Lorcan picked up the tale. "It was a picture of them on a date. And at the end…" he couldn't resist a pause to build the suspense.

"What? _What?_ " Roxanne pestered, elbowing him ruthlessly.

Lorcan and Rose met each other's gaze over the table, then smirked and said at the same time "Zoey kissed him."

Rasputin's ears pricked at the sound of his second master's name, but by the time he got close again the conversation had moved on to something regarding news and he lost interest. He had to return to his master unsuccessful.

Jon frowned at the failure, but he wasn't mad with his familiar. He was just worried about Zoey being alone, today of all days.

* * *

Lysander was having a great day. So far, he'd gone through breakfast, potions class, transfiguration, herbology, and now even lunch without someone breaking his concentration. He'd almost finished his second book of the day- and his turkey sandwich- when he realized he hadn't had to answer a single onslaught of questioning from a certain energetic, stocking-clad Ravenclaw all morning.

Looking up in a rare moment of curiosity, he found that the seat to his right wasn't occupied. Come to think of it, Zoey hadn't been at breakfast either...

"Hey, Lysander?"

The Ravenclaw looked up and over, raising a curious eyebrow at the Gryffindor.

Albus squirmed under the speculative gaze, "Have you seen Zoey? She wasn't in Astrology last night, or Ancient Runes today."

Lysander shrugged, "Maybe she was skipping?"

"Zoey doesn't skip class."

It did seem unlikely of her, but Al's tone was unnecessarily defensive. Then he remembered that the young Potter had a budding crush on the girl. Hadn't they gone out for date recently? Lysander tilted his head.

"Have you seen her since your date to Hogsmead?"

"No. Some. Only during class. It's not like she would avoid me because of it." Albus flushed, now trying to quell his own doubts. "So we may have run into Leena, and she may have freaked out at the idea of Madam Puddifoot's before I took her to the Shrieking shack… and… oh, I forgot to actually _say_ it was a date…"

Lysander raised both eyebrows now, tapping his finger on the book.

"Well I'm sure she knew! We did... Other things. Like... Um... Oh- we had butterbeer and candies and, ah..." Albus trailed off uncertainly, looking down. Now that he thought about it, it hadn't been date-y as far as first dates go. Had he screwed up his chances with her?

Albus's self-conscious discomfort was practically palpable. Lysander pressed the bridge of his nose with a soundless sigh. "You did fine, Zoey told me she had a lot of fun."

"Really?" he perked up, "What did she say?"

"She... said she had fun." Lysander replied conclusively. Of course that hadn't been all the girl had said, but frankly she had talked so much that the Ravenclaw had tried to tune out her distractive ramblings. The corners of his mouth went down into a frown. He hadn't been entirely successful.

"Oh," he deflated again at the repeated answer, "okay... Well, if you see her tell her I said 'Hi'."

Seeing that the conversation was ending, Lysander hummed an agreeing affirmative as he turned back to his book. Albus sat next to him, most likely in hopes that Zoey would show up for lunch. She didn't come though. It was just the two of them for the meal, which didn't bother Lysander. And he wasn't worried about the transfer student.

* * *

With every tick of the clock Rose felt her face twitch with the threat of snapping in two. She paced behind the empty teacher's desk with a scowl on her face, her face growing more red by a shade or two every time she looked at the clock.

Sorpius Malfoy was doing his best to ignore the irate Weasley as he played against himself in a game of chess, but wasn't succeeding particularly well. "Would it kill you to sit, Thorn?"

"Yes!" she answered instinctively, then paused as she actually realized the question. With a huff she sat atop the teacher's desk, rapping her nails on the wood with quick, angry motions.

Visibly disappointed that the action hadn't _actually_ caused her to explode or some such similar, Scorpius looked at her with continuing annoyance. "Stop acting like this is such a huge deal."

"But it is! Here we are, forced to take out our precious time to teach her ungrateful arse, and she doesn't even bother to show up!"

"How dare she."

"How _dare_ she," Rose agreed with far more emotion. "How dare she- she-" words failed her.

"Without any kind of warning or even a letter," Scorpius supplied calmly, leaning over his chess set and netting his fingers together.

"It's atrocious manners! Completely inexcusable! As a human being!"

"Nobody should skip tutoring without any kind of warning."

"Exactly! Nob-" Realizing far too late his dry and subtly accusing tone had been backing her into a corner Rose stopped midsentence, shutting her mouth with a snap.

"How disrespectful- atrocious manners, for someone to disappear in this fashion. Without word or warning. There is absolutely _nothing_ that makes that okay," he summarized in a dry tone, obviously referring to Rose's own disappearing act on him and Zoey the last session.

Setting her jaw, Rose took the bait. "Well, well I suppose if there were a _real_ emergency, then… it might be okay."

He raised an eyebrow.

"But- but come on! It's _Zoey,_ when does she ever take anything seriously? I mean we've been working with her for a month now and there's barely been any kind of progress. You can't honestly think she's trying." Rose blew at a bang that was on her forehead. "She's just using us to pick up her slack."

A muscle in his jaw clenched. So just because some people had more difficulties, they were dismissable? His mind flew to Melissa and her situation, and he only curbed his biting comments by a hair.

"If that's how you feel," he said instead, "then why are you letting her?"

"I am not 'letting' her!" Rose defended with a frown. "I just… she…"

Scorpius watched her avoid his gaze with a frown of his own. "Thorn, is everything alright?"

He had no idea why he'd asked that. What was wrong with his mouth? It was _not_ supposed to ask that.

Rose missed his moment of panic in the wake of her own, tilting her head forward so that her hair covered her eyes. "Wh- wh- what on earth do you mean?"

"Are you- are you crying?" Scorpius got up to try and see her face.

"No!" She shrieked even as she jumped away from the desk- and him, her voice suspiciously tight. "Merlin. Just because you caught me crying _once_ does not mean that I cry at the drop of a hat like a pathetic brat."

"Okay then. What do you cry about?"

Huh? Rose looked at him over her shoulder, wondering why he cared.

Scorpius repeated the question "What makes Rose Weasley cry?"

"I…" Her face was glowing she was blushing so much. "It- just stress. About- about stuff, and- noneofyourbusiness."

"Well that was unnecessary," Scorpius quipped, but he was smiling. Were her insults always a result of her nerves?

Her stomach did a funny little flip at his soft expression, and she scratched her nose nervously. She realized Albus was right, Scorpius's smile was infinitely different from his usual smirk. And he'd smiled for Zoey before.

For some reason that notion made her want his attention for a bit longer. "It's.. hard. To live up to everyone's expectations, I mean. Like- it feels like someone's always watching me, you know?"

Scorpius did know. He lived with that pressure- the trailing eyes, the lingering whispers, the preconceived images people held of his personality before they even met. Though Rose likely hadn't been the target of jinxes and spells and other malicious intents, it was doubtless stressful on the rebound.

Now that he thought about it her mom had been pretty renowned for being a genius, and a lot of her teachers expected her to be just as stellar in all her classes. And he supposed that, as the daughter of two of the Golden Trio, she had her own share of limelight in the public eye. She probably wasn't falsely accused of attempting blood rituals in her backyard on a semi-yearly basis, but again, Scorpius could imagine stress as stress.

Because he did know, he didn't see any reason to deny it. "I know." he told her and was surprised by the emotion that accompanied the words. He cleared his throat lightly in an attempt to clear it.

Rose blushed and looked down, surprised he hadn't made fun of her for being weak or something. Feeling like she should offer him something in return, she asked "And… is everything okay with you?"

Unprepared for the query, it was Scorpius's turn to get defensive. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Well- you've been in the library a lot. Not like I'm following you or anything! I just- I'm in there a lot myself, and I've noticed. And you, um, you're there at the same time, and… you and your pals haven't been tormenting us this year."

 _Tormenting_? She'd only been hit with the light stuff. Scorpius Malfoy scoffed, wondering if she was exaggerating or if Rose was seriously that fragile.

"Which- which is a good thing! I, um, with everything happening this year, I'd probably be behind in class if you were still doing that." she blushed and explained "Albus and James have been fighting. I've been trying to be mediator, but…"

"Ah." That explained a lot. There was trouble in _both_ of Potter's paradises- no wonder the Legacies had been unusually quiet. Realizing she was still waiting for an answer, he told her "I've got it under control. We- I have been researching a private project this year."

Rose frowned, _private project?_ No doubt it was another prank to pull on her cousins. She was about to ask him what the 'project' entailed but his gaze swept past her. Rose looked over her shoulder as a culmination of voices crescendoed from the hallway.

Scorpius moved to open the door, revealing a shockingly large influx of green and blue robed students originating from the direction of the quidditch pitch. After a moment of confusion the Slytherin went to close the door.

"Their scrimmage must've ended." He realized, a hint of disappointed annoyance tinging his words. If he'd known Malam was going to skip the tutoring session he would've been out there with the rest of his team, taking notes and practicing to perfect his technique.

"Wait." Rose grabbed Scorpius' arm to stop him from shutting the door, "Zoey might be with them."

"And if she is you're going to...?" Scorpius raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"Hex her ungrateful arse and drag it back to this bloody classroom."

Scorpius felt his mouth twitch in amusement; it seemed Rose wasn't as calm and composed as she appeared. They both began to scan the crowd, looking for the girl with unmistakable blue hair and striped stockings, but to no avail.

Scorpius saw Zambini and Nott laughing and mimicking some of the plays as they passed by, neither of them noticing their housemate. Odetta was beaming at her players as she watched them disperse in various directions, while the Ravenclaw team did likewise- although with a much more deflated air. Scorpius felt himself smile, he could correctly conclude the practice match had been a victory for his house.

The pair peeking out from the classroom went widely ignored for the most part, the flow of students soon becoming a trickle. Neither tutors had spotted Zoey. Rose was getting frustrated, her foot tapping irritably on the stone flooring. It stopped abruptly as she spotted her brother Albus, walking alongside a familiar Ravenclaw bookworm.

"Lysander!"

The head buried in the book tilted upwards, glancing around before finding the source of the noise. "Rose?"

"Have you seen Zoey? She was supposed to be here _ages_ ago."

"Nope." Lysander replied deftly, "Haven't seen her."

"You're sure?"

His gaze flickered to Scorpius before back to his book, "Positive. Haven't seen her all day."

"Maybe you haven't seen her because you've been buried in that book all day." Rose snapped, annoyed at the fact that so much of her day had been wasted.

Lysander frowned. He was smart enough to realize the passing insult was just an outlet for her general frustration. But that didn't make it right.

Albus caught up with his friend, planning to congratulate him on the match that'd only been lost because of a bludger injury early in the game. He frowned at Rose's harsh words. "Seen who exactly?"

"Zoey," Scorpius answered as Rose hid behind his arm for some inexplicable reason. "She didn't come to tutoring.

Al's frown deepened, "Hm, she wasn't in ancient runes today either."

"She's in Runes?" Rose asked in surprise, realizing that she must be at the lower level like Albus if that were true. She wondered why the girl hadn't asked for any tutoring in that subject yet- it was a hard class.

Her gaze met Albus's and she froze with nerves, remembering their last conversation. She still didn't know if he'd forgiven her for calling him a kid…

Albus was remembering that conversation as well, but he was beaming. "Looks like you took my advice, Rose! When'd you tell him?"

" _What!?_ " Rose squeaked, her voice cracking, "I- I didn't, I don't..." Her eyes followed Al's gaze and she flushed crimson as she violently yanked her hand off of Scorpius' arm and stepped away from his side. "That's not- I mean- He- I- It's not-" with every stammer she could feel the heat in her cheeks intensify.

Scorpius was beyond perplexed. His brow creasing as he looked between the two Legacies. "What in the wizarding world are you two blethering about?" Lysander was actually curious enough to look up from his book.

Caught under their combined stares Rose scratched her nose again. "I, um, it's just… Scorpius, I really-" She couldn't do it. She couldn't tell him she liked him, let alone how long she'd like him for. _Especially_ not with an audience. "-admire you. In class, I mean. You're always focused you're really impressive with your spells and stuff."

Scorpius Malfoy didn't know what to say. He was- he was beyond flattered. Whether she was lying or not didn't even occur to him, just the idea of being recognised for his personal merits by someone who'd pinned him down by his family name for so long had him soaring with elation.

Rose blushed at the look he was giving her.

Lysander looked between them and in a moment deduced her lingering feelings. He discarded the information as unimportant, simply because he hated drama.

"No." Albus, oblivious to the embarrassment of the moment, looked at Malfoy, "That's not what I meant Rosie. When did you tell him that you-"

" _ALBUS_ _SEVERUS_ _POTTER!_ If you say one more word I swear I will strap you to a chair, yank your hair out and feed you to the giant squid!" Rose screeched, bursting through the opened doorway to grab her cousin by the arm. Albus protested vocally as he was dragged down the hallway.

Scorpius watched her go in confusion, then turned to Lysander since he was the only person left. "Aren't you going to rescue him?"

"No." Lysander shrugged. "He'll slip away on his own. He's had plenty of practice, after all."

Sure enough Albus escaped her hold and disappeared around a corner. Lysander was certain Rose would never find him, and so resumed reading his book as he went on his way.

Scorpius watched him leave, then looked back at Rose and shook his head.

He still didn't understand girls.

* * *

Once upon a time, Zoethia Malam reflected over a small cup of cheaply-brewed hot chocolate in each hand, she had looked forward to coming to this place. Taking a sip and willing herself not to grimace at the taste, she kept her pace even so as not to spill the other.

She nodded at the Healer, who recognized her and opened the door to the restricted security. Restricted security was a bad contradiction in terms, she realized. It implied that the security was restricted and not increased to reduce access.

The man coughed a bit, and Zoey came out of her thoughts to find she'd stopped moving as she mused. Blushing and apologizing quickly, she started walking down the hallway that took exactly forty-nine steps for her to walk down.

That number had been a lot bigger when she first came here, Zoey remembered and sighed as she took another sip of the chocolate drink. This could really use some marshmallows. There were none though-

Chiding herself for her own distractible mind as she counted the twenties out with her steps, Zoey looked into the other rooms of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies with passing interest. It was a fine tool to dissuade other people from opening unwanted conversations, but it did her little good when on her own.

There were new people in the rooms. At first that had inspired her, shown her that the magical doctors had a record of success. Now she found that it just reminded her of how long she'd been waiting, and was horrified to find herself relieved when she saw faces multiple times. For now it was the reminder that waiting was normal that settled her nerves, but part of her feared she'd someday become vindictive enough to be happy that at least other people were suffering the same way.

Fourty-nine steps. Zoey paused at the open door to R527, taking a deep breath. She was feeling fear, anxiety, and dread. That wasn't allowable, so she pictured them traveling like leaves on the breath of her exhale to leave her positive emotions behind. Smiling like she always did, Zoey turned the corner.

"I'm back!" she called, stepping aside to let a training healer get to the fresh sheets. She bit her lip before she could ask a habitual _did you miss me?_

It was a good thing she did. Zelina Avery was out of bed and sitting by the window, her emerald green eyes staring out the glass in a vacant expression that only came after an episode. At the words though they turned a piercing sharp look in Zoey's direction, narrowed in suspicion. "Back from where?"

Feeling that blade deep in her soul, she was careful to keep the smile going. "Oh, I've been out of London for a little while. I was just telling Crissy I'd returned."

The training assistant, used to this charade, smiled and played along. "It's good to see you again," she agreed even though Zoey had been standing in the room not ten minutes earlier.

Walking slowly to the window, Zoey adjusted the Healer robes she was borrowing and held out the spare cup that had been intended for Zelina all along. "Would you like some hot chocolate?"

Blinking in surprise, Zelina took it. Her hands, and her entire demeanor, flowed with a grace that had been ingrained from her upbringing. Holding her pinky out a touch from the styrofoam cup, she frowned softly at the flavor. "This needs marshmallows."

"Agreed," Zoey nodded, knowing she was smiling a bit much at the small comment that happened to match her own opinion.

"Strange," the woman mumbled, "I've been craving this, but I know I had some recently…"

The Healer trainee froze, panicking a bit. She was under strict orders not to let this patient realize how much time had passed since she'd been admitted to Mungo's. Zelina Avery's memory lapses should only be addressed when there was a professional nearby.

Fortunately, Zoey was far more practiced at conversing with this patient as long as possible. "It's hot chocolate. Personally, I always crave hot chocolate." She beamed at the woman.

A small twitch to her lips was the closest to a smile Zelina could manage. "True," she said with a ghost of amusement as she looked out the window. Their reflections were quite similar, Zelina realized... they had the same cheekbones. After a moment of mutual silence, she turned her gaze back to the girl at her side. "You seem young to be a Healer."

"I'm not, actually." She answered with the truth, "I'm just here so much that they let me borrow it quite often. Plus I know the Minister." Still the truth.

"Quite the connection," Zelina said approvingly as she sipped in a refined manner. "Why are you here so often?"

Feeling her throat constrict and her heart twist painfully once more, Zoey closed her eyes against the gaze that was green as her own. "My… my mother's been here for almost ten years now. I used to come every week, but… school."

"Oh I see. Then-" Zelina cut herself off and stood abruptly, already facing the door wearily as a trio of healers came in with a cupcake. Her stance was battle ready and her face hardened into a glacial glare with her left hand going to her hip as though to draw a weapon, though Zoey doubted she knew her hand had gone there at all.

The nurse in the middle walked slowly so as to not startle the patient further, but still proceeded inside the room with a small cupcake. Holding her hand protectively around the candle, they didn't sing but just said in unison "Happy Birthday Zoey."

Zelina blinked and slowly relaxed, but not completely seeing as there were so many people in the room. Their presence set her nerves on edge. "Birthday?"

Zoey nodded with a blush. "I'm fourteen today," she admitted softly, biting her lip and looking nervous.

"My daughter's only five." Looking at the cupcake herself, Zelina's face turned wistful. Then she covered it with a cough and tried to cover her moment of softness with a gruffly said "Happy Birthday."

She had no idea why the two words made the nurses gasp and one of them hug Zoey with a squeal, urging her to blow out the single candle before 'the birthday luck ran out'.

Her throat far to tight for words and desperately trying to hold back the tears that would only cause confusion and ruin the moment, Zoey made her wish and puffed out the small flame, watching with delight as it's last puff of smoke rose in spiraling sparks to explode in a tiny firework.

Smiling and pleasantly surprised, she caught the twinkling sparks and looked up with a smile. What she saw shattered her heart.

Zelina Avery had frozen in place, her mouth slightly open as her eyes glazed over in a vacant expression that Zoey had come to hate. Her chest rose and fell terribly slowly and she didn't move until one of the nurses hesitantly asked "ma'am?"

Jerking as though she'd been woken from a long sleep Zelina backed up, crouching as her hand again flew to her hip. "Who are you?" She hissed in accusation, all but snarling at the people that had somehow appeared without her noticing. They didn't look like a threat, but that didn't mean she'd be compliant.

"Oh darling…" It was hard to tell who Crissy was talking to as she looked between the defensive woman and the girl who'd just lost her birthday wish.

Zoey nodded and smiled, trying to say what she always did after one of Zelina's episodes. To promise that it was safe, see how much if anything at all she remembered, and like she always did assure that- that everything was alright.

Except this time she couldn't. Taking the cupcake with a nod and a smile, she left the room before the air itself choked her. Zoey was planning to run somewhere, anywhere as far as her legs could carry, but didn't get particularly far before she was halted by a familiar face.

Jonovan Malam Orion looked murderous as he grabbed her shoulder to make sure she didn't make a run for it, looking into the room. "How long have you been lying to me?"

"About what?" Zoey asked, because there were a lot of options. About her sneaking off, about the Healer trainee robes she was wearing, about how not 'alright' she was…

Yeah. There were a lot of options. But Jon was only concerned about one.

He looked at the woman currently preparing to battle the nurses that were preparing a sedative for their panicked patient. A short woman with dark hair, high cheekbones and eyes the exact vibrant green of Zoey's. "How long have you known your mom was alive?"

* * *

 _Next chapter will start with Jon &Zoey talking more about her background. I know ya'll have been waiting, thanks for being patient!_

 _~E_


	21. Ch 21 Brewing Storms

**Ch. 21- Brewing Storms**

* * *

Jonovan Malam Orion was pissed. Oh he was confused. And bewildered. But mostly he was fire-spitting _pissed._ He kept staring at Zoey, waiting for the girl to open her mouth and start talking.

If he touched her, Zoey knew, her hair would immediately turn a red more vibrant than the Weasley's. She sighed and stared into her hot chocolate, which had long ago cooled into lukewarm chocolate. He hadn't said anything since that first encounter, though he had dragged her away from the upsetting sight in room R527.

"How did you get past security?" She frowned slightly. "How did you even track where I was?"

"Magic." He said flatly, an answer that had been much more entertaining back before he'd known the wizarding world existed.

"Riiight…"

He didn't respond. Silence was a tool, and the best one against a certain Zoethia Malam.

Sure enough she sighed, finally confronting the dreaded conversation that was long and far overdue. "I've always known. Ever since it happened I've known."

"The whole time?" Jon tried not to gape at the idea. "Since you were- dammit, Zo, you were only five!"

"Yeah," she tried to laugh as though the idea of it were entertaining. "It wasn't like there was much of a choice. It was either lie to you or- or never see you again."

Jon was floored by the declaration. He tried to imagine his life without Zoey underfoot, making breakfast with his mom in the mornings and waiting to walk home together after school. Without her peppy energy, without the responsibility of looking after her as they grew up… of course in the more trying moments he'd imagined it. What teenage boy, saddled with the care and keeping of a cousin eight years younger, wouldn't be upset with the restrictions it forced on his life? Who wouldn't wish that frustration away?

But as an actual possibility…? A life where he and Zoey had grown up as just cousins instead of siblings? It was unimaginable.

He could tell from her expression and eyes that she was dead serious. With a defeated groan Jonovan ran a hand down his face, leaning back in his chair with a defeated slump. Only after he'd let his anger go could he admit to himself that it had sprouted from confusion and hurt more than anything, but he put all those feelings aside to focus on the more pressing need: information. "Start from the beginning."

* * *

The Great Hall was packed as students formed a constant stream to and from the house tables, some of the students looking forward to eating while others were were eager to trade candlesticks floating overhead for true sky. Lilly Potter was engrossed in her supper, idly feeding her rabbit while proof-reading a History of Magic essay.

"Lily?"

"Yeah?" Lily Potter looked up from the lettuce she was feeding Charles Fluffington to see her cousin standing there. "What is it, Hugo?"

The tall first-year Hufflepuff sat down nervously, clutching a school newspaper in his hands. "Have you seen this yet?"

Her nose wrinkled, "The Scandals? Hugo, that thing's absolute rubbish. You should put it in the trash."

"But- it's- it's got _Zoey_ in it."

"What?" Lily immediately stopped what she was doing, giving the topic her undivided attention. She and Hugo had been spending more time with each other and other Hufflepuffs and less with the transfer, but they both considered her a friend. One of their few friends that wasn't family or star-stuck by their Legacy ties.

The article was freshly printed just before supper, but had already made it's way across the Great Hall. There were dozens of them clutched in hands of every house, and now that Lily cared to look she saw that there were quite a few groups huddled around them and talking.

She frowned at the moving picture it featured, which showed younger versions of Zoey and Assistant Orion. The young assistant was posing for a picture in front of a turreted castle, a huge crowd walking by him in the background. Zoey, who looked about nine or ten, would sneak up at Jon from behind and launch forward with the obvious intent to tackle him. Of course it didn't work the way she had planned and ended up latched to his back, laughing at herself. Jon spun in place to make her scream and beg him to stop, but his firm grip on her legs betrayed the caution in his teasing action. Holding her headband- which had two giant black circles sticking up out of it for some reason- Zoey giggled and kissed him on the cheek, making him act grossed out and drop her for more theatrics.

The small image of Zoey would fall, quickly pick herself up off the ground, then run off the edge of the picture with Jon close on her heels. The young the History Assistant would be the first to return to view on the page, then a few minutes later Zoey would come and sneak up on him again and repeat the cycle.

Lily went on to read the article, which cited that the squib had been known to meet with Orion frequently and sometimes late at night. Saying that such improper conduct could only be expected from someone with Slytherin heritage. It took her a moment to realize who it was about.

"How did the author even get this picture? And since when is Zoey a _squib?_ " Then she shook her head, "You know what, nevermind. It's not true."

"Perception is reality, Lil." Hugo looked around the hall, watching at the entire school's focus remain on the article and a certain transfer student. Zoey had been generally well-liked when she first arrived, largely due to startling individuality, but her continuing strangeness has been chipping at the foundation of that affection. Unlike Lily he had been following the Scandal articles, and though Hugo personally didn't believe them he knew how frequently she'd been mentioned. As time went on the passages had become less and less flattering toward their friend, and now this last article was turning the school against her.

Lily bit her lip with worry. She had to admit, the overly-friendly picture and Zoey's relationship with the assistant- which she always somehow avoided explaining- was certainly gossip-worthy. It also didn't help the general image of her friend that she'd announced a Slytherin heritage to the entire hall. Nobody had gotten over their prejudice of the Second War. Nobody.

The current shunning of Slytherin House was proof of that.

"I'll bet James knows."

"Huh?" Lily blinked and looked up at Hugo.

"The picture." He waved the article up and down in the air, "I'll bet James knows where the article came from."

"Genius!" Lily exclaimed as she stood from Hufflepuff table. Very few people were trusted with the identity of the Scandal's author, writer, and editor. Neither of them knew if it really was done by three people or not, but it was mostly only older students who seemed to know the author, and James Sirius Potter, a 6th year, could easily be one of them. "Let's go ask him-"

A bit of asking around Gryffindor table and they got the same answer from everybody; James was at the Quidditch Pitch, running practice for their next scrimmage. Apparently it was a bit of a controversial point, since James had practically doubled Gryffindor's Quidditch practice schedule in preparation for the game against Slytherin. Half the House was looking forward to demolishing their rival, the other half was bummed that their friends were missing on a Friday night.

Walking through the halls revealed that there were countless copies of the School Scandals in the hands of every House, even a few Slytherins had already gotten some. They were the only House that didn't get the regular circulation of the paper, and the fact that they already had Scandals proved how interested in this edition the school was.

Hugo crumpled his copy in his hand and picked up the pace for the quidditch pitch, Lily practically jogging to keep up with his tall strides.

James was standing on the reserves platform, calling out direction to his team as he watched them practice their plays and occasionally throwing practice balls at unwary teammates. It was his way of testing their reflexes against bludgers.

Roxanne cursed as she got hit in the knee and chewed out over it.

"Rox! You're a bloody _beater_ , it's your _job_ to watch the bludgers!"

His redheaded cousin rolled her eyes, knowing better than to argue when the eldest Potter was in Captain mode. He was always stubborn, but he was spectacularly mule-headed over Quidditch. He never took a word of advice from anybody, and talking back was just asking for laps.

She focused on the bludger- a _real_ bludger, which she was more than capable of keeping track of _thankyouverymuch_ \- which was making it's way toward Rose's back and knocked it at the Chasers, watching it disrupt their play with satisfaction. Of course, their Captain had a different opinion…

"What was that!" James Potter roared, his focus shifting toward the chasers. "If that's all it takes to slip you up I will knock you off those brooms myself!"

As his disapproval moved on Rose flew over to hover by Roxanne. "Thanks for that." she hadn't even seen the bludger heading towards her.

"Meh," Rox waved off her gratitude and rolled her shoulder to stretch it out, watching James send all the chasers away for a round of laps. "I wanted a break anyways."

While their teammates got punished they took the chance to catch their breath, Roxanne still massaging the muscles of her right shoulder. It had been bothering her a lot lately; maybe she should see Healer Prin about it.

"Hugo?" Rose asked aloud as she saw her impossibly tall younger brother make his way onto the bleachers. "What's he- what're he and Lily doing here?"

Roxanne followed her gaze and tilted her head with her own curiosity. "Let's find out." Ignoring the ache in her shoulder, she flew beneath the platform James stood upon and hovered beneath it, putting a finger to her lips when Rose flew up a few moments later. Rose wasn't sure why they were bothering with the sneaking instead of just asking, but joined Rox anyways.

"Pretty condemning, right?" They heard James say with obvious smugness.

"There's not a single fact on this whole page." Lily protested. "And where did Scandals even get the picture? Unless Zoey _gave_ it to them- which I very much doubt- this isn't legal to publish!"

Rose's eyes widened. She hadn't even thought of that. Apparently James hadn't either, as his voice gained an edge of guilt. "That's- the entire paper's unofficial anyways, Lil. It's not illegal if it's not official."

Hugo's footsteps moved toward the Potter siblings, his shadow on the platform moving with him. "Do you know anything about this- _this?"_

Apparently he had been unable to find an appalling enough word, so he just laced the second 'this' with as much derision as possible and waved around the article about.

"I know it's true."

"James Potter you take that back right now!" Lily demanded, stomping her foot and sending a small layer of dust onto the two eavesdroppers below. Rose dipped her broom aside to avoid a particularly large piece.

Roxanne rubbed the specks out of her eyes as James retorted smugly "But that would be a lie. I've seen the transfer sneak off to see Orion in private, sometimes well into the night, with my own two eyes. _And_ with the Marauders Map. Plus, you can't deny their relationship is obviously strange."

"Her name is Zoey." Hugo said gruffly, shocking Rose with how firm he was being, "And you should call the Assistant by his title."

"That's still not a denial." James said triumphantly. "But hey, why don't you ask her yourself? Check in on the blue-haired brat and see what she has to say. Oh but wait-" he made a show of looking around even though Zoey wouldn't have had any reason to be at the Quidditch Pitch "-she doesn't seem to be here. That's strange, it seems nobody's seen her all day. And oh, have you noticed…?"

Rose knew what he was about to point out, having been the one to notice and tell James in the first place.

"Orion doesn't seem to be available either. He disappeared shortly after the transfer, and everyone knows because History of Magic was _so boring_ today. Now, isn't that a strange coincidence? I wonder if it's related. I _wonder,_ " He leaned toward them but his voice only got softer with confidence, "if they'll come back together from their little weekend field trip."

"They won't." Hugo said with confidence. He'd lost his hero-worship toward the girl that had saved his life by fighting a kelpie, but not his respect. "This- _this,-_ " he once again failed to find a good word for the situation and just waved the article a second time, "Is completely bogus."

Lily nodded agreement to his declaration, going so far as to rip their Scandals copy in half. She and Hugo, with the true loyalty of Hufflepuff, would never believe its lies.

Rose and Roxanne watched the torn paper float in the wind to the green grass far below them all, then glanced at each other. Rose was downright shocked at their blind loyalty- the evidence had been right there in front of them, but they'd completely ignored it. It's not like there was another explanation for Orion and Zoey's relationship besides secretly-romantic.

James stood up straight with a slight frown at their declaration, then straightened his quidditch robes and smirked again. "We'll see." Time would prove him right. Until then, he waved the young pair off his pitch and got back to practice.

After the chasers finished their lap he got the team running their drills again, only this time he jumped on his own Firebolt and watched their efficiency from above. Alone in the air, he smiled openly at the success of the Scandals article, pleased with the presentation Christine Creevy had given the school. It had taken care of so many of his problems, it was almost too perfect.

Ever since he'd seen the transfer girl with blue hair he'd known that she was allied with Malfoy, she was the girl that had tried to befriend Peeves before the end of the last year. He'd tailed her for a little while to try understanding her motives, watched her befriend first Lily and Hugo and then on to Lysander, obviously worming her way into the Legacies' good graces for reasons unknown. It wasn't till she made that comment about his father that he realized how truly dangerous she was.

The Harry Potter, mocked for 'surviving being a boy'… it made his blood boil. There could only be one person stupid enough to say that even once. As soon as he'd heard her say _that_ to Albus in the library he realized that she had been the thief in the greenhouses.

The one that seen him with Scorpius's wand.

It had been a problem- a real problem. He couldn't turn her in to Lysander or any other Prefect. The transfer knew that he had stolen another student's wand, on a test day no less. With the way she'd somehow won over practically the whole school, someone might actually believe her. If that information was leaked to a professor James would never forgive himself for the ruin it would bring to his family's reputation. Or the trouble it would land himself in.

He'd needed to knock her down from a place of influence in important circles, but that hadn't been easy. Especially while keeping his motivations a secret. As Christine had reported, Zoethia became friends with practically all of Hogwarts. James knew he'd first have to cast a bit of imperfection on her image- at least within his family to start, to gain allies in his fellow Legacies. The rest of the school would quickly follow. Rose had become easier to recruit as she become more and more frustrated with her mandated tutoring sessions.

For a bit, he had thought he wouldn't need to do anything. Christine had pegged the transfer as a squib and then Zoethia Malam became targeted by practically all of the school to see if it was true. If there was ever a time that James Potter was grateful for Slytherin bigotry, it had been then, as he'd watched the girl get pegged with every manner of spell, charm, and mundane projectile as they attempted to test her squib-ness. Not once had the strange transfer girl responded to it- not a single comment or glare was sent their way, or even a query as to _why?_ She had just let them do it, as though it was okay for them to.

Even better, nobody had spoken up on her behalf. Though the hazing had died down at James's suggestion when one of the pranks had caused her physical injury, a two-inch cut on her shin when she failed to dodge the spear that he'd tried to trip her with. There hadn't been many people there, but the few who were stopped and stared as she went tumbling in a cartoonish-fashion and her books cascaded out of her hands.

The smothered laughter in the hall had quieted when she turned over and revealed the bleeding limb, blood seeping between the fingers she was using to staunch the flow. Her half-lidded gaze met each of the audiences'- not accusing or angry, more like she was looking over books on a shelf and assessing what each had to offer.

When their gaze met Zoey's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, and in that eyeblink James Potter would swear that her glittering gaze changed colors. Then her green stare had moved on to the rest of the onlookers, her wordless assessment making them quiet and eventually silent themselves. It was like _muffliato_ had been cast over them and their thoughts, unable to take action unless she permitted it.

Then the girl blinked, breaking the spell as she wordlessly collected her books. When she stood and walked on, a tear in her sock revealing perfectly unblemished skin, a sigh of relief went through everybody. She hadn't actually been hurt- she'd just wanted them to think she was. And in any case, it was obvious now that if she'd had magic it would have responded to their assaults by now.

At least, that was what James had assured the four other people that had been there. And that was what Hogwarts continued to believe. But the eldest Potter knew Zoey wasn't a squib. He'd never believed she was. Plus he had seen her blood, not just on her leg at first but staining her hand as she had gathered her bookbag. She had healed herself, wandless and wordlessly, in the span of a few moments. She might actually be a powerful witch. He had told the school to stop so that her magic wouldn't manifest in a more blatant manner under their mild assaults- but of course Slytherins never listened to anyone, and they'd continued.

Even his social standing wouldn't keep a false rumor circulating for long. James needed more- thus their excursion into Ravenclaw Tower- but it seemed he needn't have worried as the transfer graciously served him the means of her own demise. On a silver platter. On Halloween morning.

Her public allegiance with the Slytherins and against the rest of the Houses- against his _own brother,_ a _Potter,_ would have been enough to turn the school against her with time. Then the transfer had just put a little bow on the situation when she declared that her mother was Slytherin, making her almost as bad as those snakes herself. That, coupled with her sudden disappearance, had the set the stage for him.

Now with another publication of Creevy's _Scandals_ article, with the picture that they'd stolen from her room, there was no chance of the transfer regaining her previous position of positive influence in Hogwarts. Now, if the transfer ever tried to blackmail James with the story of how he'd stolen a wand, he'd have more than enough support to shoot her down. Now, everything was right again.

James was still going to find out her and Orion's connection to the Minister of Magic, but for the moment that wasn't urgent. After all, he reminded himself as he dove down the pitch to set a practice snitch free, right now he had a scrimmage against Slytherin to win.

* * *

Unlike Jon, Zoey had known that this conversation would happen someday. She'd imagined it playing out a thousand ways, she even had a piece of paper back at her room- in her real house, not the Tower- with a preplanned speech. Carefully worded to explain and calm her cousin at the same time. But of course, right now she couldn't remember a word of it. He wanted her to start at 'the beginning', she tried to think back. What was the beginning?

"We don't know how it happened," Zoey Malam took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her mind far away from St. Mungo's small cafeteria. "And there was even less of an idea back then. All anyone knew was Zelina Avery went into the field for work and disappeared for a few days; eventually, somehow she was picked up by the forest search and rescue group, but by then she was already… like that."

Jonovan sighed as well, but he needed to know. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. Sometimes she doesn't even remember who she is." There were other people that had been struck by the same condition, but Zelina's was by far the most extreme. She was Patient Zero, the first and the worst of the victims. "It just- it happens again and again without any warning, and…" she remembered the vacant look in her mother's eyes not two minutes after she'd said happy birthday.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She winced at the hurt hidden in his voice. "I did. _We_ did. You, Aunt Mary and Uncle Peter- you all knew."

"No we didn't." Jon scowled. "I would definitely have remembered Aunt Zel being _alive_ instead of missing and declared dead."

"Yes, you did. But- you forgot. You were _obliviated_."

His knuckles popped as they clenched into fists. "I was what?"

"They wiped your memory. They had to, you- you and your parents went straight to the cops and tried to report my- Zelina as being kidnapped by a cult."

Oh no… "The Statute of Secrecy," Jonovan growled like a swear. For wizards the punishment was part of their justice system. For muggles there was very little choice.

"You were muggles that had proved incapable of keeping the secrets of the Wizarding World. _Obliviation_ all around." Zoey nodded sullenly, sinking into her seat. "So- so that night, when I got back, Miss Cringle gave me a choice."

"Your counselor?" The woman had met with Zoey every week of her life for as long as he could remember, to help her through the loss of first her mom and then her dad.

"Yeah she- she's kinda been my magical liaison to the wizarding world, at least until you discovered magic." She smiled at the description, but it was a fleeting expression. "Anyways, Dad was already in the hospital with cancer. I couldn't live with him, so- so I only had two options."

"If I wanted to stay with you, I could never tell you about magic or mom or-" Her throat clenched as she realized she'd called Zelina her mom. How long had it been? She'd had to stop… years ago. It wasn't good for her mom's sanity to see that the daughter she thought she'd seen a week ago had grown years older. After a few bad episodes Zoey had made the conscious change in her mind.

That was also when she started wearing the Healer robe, so that she'd have an excuse for why she was at St. Mungos. Usually she didn't even tell Zelina about having a mom here, but today she had just… hoped. And been utterly crushed.

She didn't realize that she was crying until Jon reached across the small booth table and brushed a wet tear off her cheek. "Or what?" He prompted, trying to keep her engaged in the conversation and not wherever her wandering thought had taken her.

"It was lie to you three," she needed a moment to remember the conversation so she spoke slowly. "Or get adopted. Apparently Mom's old forms had someone else- some wizard's- name on it. They were going to see if she would be willing to take me in."

"Who was it?" He'd been under the impression that his Aunt Zelina had been a lone wolf that rarely let anyone close. Or at least, that's what his parents always said of their lost sister-in-law. Who had been in a hospital for ten years, instead of skipped out on her daughter and dying husband.

Jon frowned. This was bothering him already, how had Zoey kept this to herself practically her whole life?

"I don't know." Zoey shrugged. "It was someone called Tori- Victoria Greene or something like that, I don't- I didn't even meet her. I didn't want… if I left I…"

She was about to cry more. Jon sighed and moved to the other side of the booth to hide her from the rest of the room. Even though it was empty, the one thing Zoey hated more than crying was the idea of being seen. He looked at the open doors and closed them with a thought, turning the lock with magic as well.

"You don't have- other people are gonna-"

"I do. And I don't care." He kept his glare focused on the door, as though daring the universe to send someone to disturb his younger cousin in her moment of vulnerability. He scarcely remembered her crying as she grew up with him. She was much the same as now, always smiling and cheerful. That made the times she cried all the more shocking and monumental.

While most girls went through the phase of crying over anything and pouting to get their ways, Zoey had been abnormally mature. She never shed any tears at home. She'd always go back to- Jon blinked at the epiphany. "This is why you always went back to your old house. You weren't checking to see if she was back, you were just trying to be close to her."

Zoey nodded her head in agreement. "I wasn't 'clinging to a ghost'."

He winced both at her defensive tone and the memory of when he'd said that. "Sorry."

She just shook her head again and leaned against him, pulling her knees up to her chest and curling into herself. It was too much- this conversation, the swirling emotions of even planning to see Zelina, the wrenching result of that birthday cupcake, which she hadn't even eaten…

It was always disconcerting for Jonovan to find Zoey crying. She didn't cry properly. Listening to her, it was easy to tell that she'd never really learned. It was a sound of pain rather than sadness. Zoey would hold her breath between sobs, choking her own tears until she simply had to breathe and then she would take in shuddering gasps of air like a man who'd nearly drowned, almost hyperventilating in her need for oxygen. Soon as she caught her breath and started crying like a normal person she would hold it in again to repeat the cycle, rubbing the tears from her face.

Jon rubbed her back comfortingly for as long as she needed, waiting until she'd literally cried herself into exhaustion. He was feeling a bit lost- he'd had a plan for her birthday, but obviously that wasn't going to happen. Zoey was not going back to Hogwarts in this state. He operated the hot-chocolate machine and floated a fresh set of cups over to them with a touch of magic, setting one in front of her and taking a sip of his own.

He scowled at the watered down flavor, evaporating the extra liquid before taking another sip and still finding it sub-par. The inadequacy was almost a relief; here was at least one thing that he could make better for Zoey on her birthday. "Hey," he shook her lightly, "do you want to get out of here and get some real hot chocolate?"

Zoey hiccuped with surprise, but did manage to chuckle lightly. "With marshmallows?"

"Of course," Jon smirked, standing up and offering her a hand. "It'll take two minutes to get home."

Her hand was already in his when she realized what he'd said. "What do you mean-"

There was a sharp _crack_ as Jon apparated them out of the dreary wizarding hospital, standing on a hillside neighborhood lined with streetlamps and telephone poles. A dog barked at them from down the street, and a few people who were walking by jumped at the sound of their arrival but Jon had covered them both with a spell of invisibility, and so the muggles walked on with a grumble about backfiring car motors.

"-home…" Zoey finished as she stared at one of the buildings that was no different from the others. The same paintjob, the same woodwork and architecture, the same cookie-cutter style as every other house of the street. But knowing the pictures, pillows and warmth that it held inside it's exterior was like a punch of longing to her gut. Zoey gripped Jon's hand tighter and looked up at him in askance, knowing that they really shouldn't be here in the middle of the school year and especially not in wizarding robes.

"Mom and Dad are on a trip," Jon read her hesitation easily and pulled her toward the house they'd grown up together in. "They're out on a Mediterranean Cruise for the week with their agency, so we have the weekend to ourselves."

That had happened a lot growing up; Aunt Mary and Uncle Peter were often away on trial trips for their Travel Agency. Sometimes they took Jon and Zoey along, but just as often- especially over the school year- they'd be left at home alone. As they stepped inside, they were both hit with a combination of nostalgia and deja-vu at the old pictures, worn furniture and dim lights.

Zoey plopped down on their soft couches and pulled one of the pillows to her chest, resting her chin on it. "Are you sure this is okay?"

Jon nodded at the familiar image but snapped his fingers in a casual command. "Shoes off, Zo."

Grinning, Zoey did as he asked and walked them over to their shoe cabinet, leaving her stockings on. She walked over to the fridge and opened it up, looking at their coldcuts hungrily. "Do you think they'll notice if we cook some?"

"Not a chance." His parents would think they'd eaten it themselves. He easily reached around her and pulled them out, moving around the kitchen with a deft efficiency that only came with years of experience. "Want potatoes in the oven?"

Her mouth was watering already. Zoey nodded and they both got changed out of their flowing robes before setting to work in the kitchen. They set the radio playing normal muggle music that wasn't sung by 'Weird Sisters' in a strange imitation of heavy metal. Zoey quite happily sung along to it, her mood improving by leaps and bounds.

Looking at her, Jon felt his worry settle. She was strong- she just needed a bit of support from time to time. There was still one last thing he needed to know, however. "I understand that you couldn't tell me growing up…"

Zoey stopped and looked up at him, her knife poised over her potato slices.

"...but after I learned of magic- after I got my own- why didn't you tell me then?" This time Jon was the one to drop his gaze. "Why hadn't you told me since?"

Zoey bit her lip, reaching forward to grab his hand with her small one. "You had- you had _so much_ to go through, remember? At first I- I was worried what would happen if it made you upset…"

He grunted a reluctant acknowledgement. Four years ago when he'd suddenly gotten his magic it had been completely haywire, setting explosions and raging tempests at the smallest changes of his moods. The only person that could approach him without harm was Zoey, and even she had been struck by a stray bolt from time to time, which would just spiral his magic wilder with his panic and guilt over hurting her…

Dangerous thought path, Jon realized when all the electronics of their house flickered in response to his memories of past events. The clocks flashed midnight and the refrigerator hummed as it came back to life, as though his emotions had been an electric surge, as though proving her point. If this was what happened now when he had near-total control over his magic, what might have happened back then? "And after that?" Like, say… yesterday, when she'd apparently made and executed a plan to sneak out of Hogwarts to see the very woman he thought long gone? _Without telling him anything?_ "Why did you just sneak away? Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous that was?"

She sensed his rising anger, but didn't have anything better to answer with than the truth. "After then- then it was just hard. How was I supposed to walk up to you and just go 'Hey Jon, I have a really big secret I've been keeping from you my whole life' like it was nothing? How was I supposed to say it?"

"…That would have been fine." he told her with a note of hurt accusation.

Zoey winced and looked down, pulling her hand back. "I'm sorry. I- sorry."

He looked at her crestfallen expression, then sighed and reached out to flick her forehead. The soft _snuck_ echoed through her head. While Zoey theatrically complained in her usual manner Jon went back to his cooking tasks. "There. Now we're even."

She stopped rubbing her forehead and looked at him in awe. "Really?"

"Consider it a birthday gift," he said dismissively, but they both knew he'd have forgiven her any day of the year.

Her relief was palpable. "Thanks Jon."

Jonovan Malam Orion just grunted and got their idle hands working on their dinner instead.

* * *

Minutes after they had left, Draco Malfoy walked by. He was freely scowling at the Healers and staff of St. Mungo's to encourage them to scuttle out of his path with even more haste.

Normally his wife, Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, would have chided him for the expression. Would have apologized on his behalf and teased that his face might get stuck like that with a soft smile and giggle.

But she wasn't here to calm his ire- in fact, Draco suspected she was counting on him losing his temper so that she could become the 'reasonable' party of the two of them. And in this case, for once, she was just as frustrated as he was. He snarled at the circling answers and paperwork and bogus hoops they'd been jumping through for the past few weeks- no, for almost two months now. Ever since they'd heard the name 'Zelina Avery' in these halls they had been trying to discover what she was there for. They knew Zelina had no family of which to speak, and had tried to find who was funding her stay here at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. Staying here wasn't cheap, and yet even this offer had been met with denial, delays, and insufficient information.

Every question had been answered with secretive looks between coworkers and another circular route that was obviously meant to dissuade his interest. They had tried again and again to find out anything about Zelina's life in the past twenty years, but without success. They kept getting sent away in circling paperwork that to an experienced Pureblood like himself told Malfoy that some sort of Ministry cover-up was involved.

Someone else might have been discouraged- but he was Draco Malfoy. He could not be deterred by such simple bureaucratic antics. And he had a debt that was long since overdue to repay. A debt that had always bothered him, but until now had seemed impossible to return.

Now, he knew Zelina Avery was alive. And for only the third time since he'd known her, she was in need of assistance.

The first time he had been sixteen, a brat, and completely and utterly out of his depth. Voldemort had expected complete and unending devotion from all the Malfoys, even as he'd given Draco a suicide mission he had no hope of accomplishing.

How was a sixteen year old _boy_ supposed to kill Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards that had ever lived? The Dark Lord Voldemort himself hadn't been able to do it. Draco had tried his own methods- poison, curses, but failed completely and utterly. He hadn't really hoped to succeed. Dumbledore might have been an old codger, but he was still an old codger that didn't deserve to die. Or maybe Draco just really didn't want to become a murderer.

Either way, the vanishing cabinet had become his best solution. If he could fix it, Draco would be able to appease both the Dark Lord and wash his hands of the matter. Voldemort couldn't blame _him_ for the weakness of the other Death Eaters.

...Or at least, that was his hope at the time. But that would require repairing the damned thing first. The task had seemed more and more impossible as time went on, as Draco had poured through book after book and studied theories and imported as many magical materials as he dared try get through the mail.

Nothing had worked. He remembered fighting through wallowing despair until one night he'd sat before his latest attempt and gave in, gave up. He'd closed his eyes and felt a tear fall as he realized he had failed. Voldemort would kill him and his family, ending the Malfoy line, and Dumbledore would die anyways, and all because he couldn't repair a dumb piece of wood.

He had snarled and, in a fit of rage, punched the cabinet so hard he felt his knuckles split. His blood stained the wood.

" _Well that was productive."_ A smooth voice had come out through the assorted piles of junk in the Room of Hiding.

Draco had spun around searched for the speaker, but couldn't see another soul. He pulled his wand out. "What was?"

 _"Crying and hitting things. That always fixes things, doesn't it? Did you get that plan from a two year old?"_

"I was not crying." he had declared, but knew he couldn't deny the physical aspect as the blood started trickling down his fingers. He uttered _lumos_ on his wand and cast the light along the shadows big enough to hide in. "What do you want?"

 _"Help." the feminine voice said simply, startling him. "And so, it seems, do you. Unless you_ want _to suffer the Dark Lord's wrath."_

He went stiff as a board even as a chill went down his back. "I don't know what you-"

 _"-please spare us your breath and our time. You know you're not the only Death Child operating in Hogwarts- you've got your cronies out front, remember?"_ Crabbe and Goyle were indeed keeping watch, but Draco wondered how she knew who they were while polyjuiced. And for that matter, how to deal with their failure. He opted for silence at the moment, and was rewarded as his elusive speaker kept talking. _"He has His own purpose for me. It took me a while to figure out what_ you _were for. Then again, you haven't exactly been_ subtle _now have you? Everyone knows what happened to Katie Bell, poor girl. You do realize that curse will forever haunt her?"_

"Don't act like that bothers you," Draco snarled even as he flinched internally. Another stain on his life. He had caught a flash of movement around the corner and started for it.

 _"I'm not, just saying that was a waste of a wonderfully constructed curse. Xavier will be disappointed; I do believe he had hopes for it..."_

"Xavier Avery?" he blanched. The Averys were not a family to mess with. No Pureblood lineage was, but while the Malfoys and Notts and Parkinsons were names that wizards feared, the Avery family was the one that Purebloods dreaded. The were the head of the wizarding world's largest Black Organization, seeped in the blackest of dark magics and illegal trade, and no Pureblood lineage failed to give the respect that warranted. No Pureblood reached adulthood without owing one of them _something._ Xavier, despite being a seventh year, was known for being ruthless himself and to mess with one Avery was to incur the wrath of their entire organization. Draco hid his internal panic as he demanded "What kind of help?"

 _"Finally, back to the problem at hand. You need help with this," The girl had suddenly revealed herself, standing with her back to the roaring fireplace so it's light would hide her finer features. She put a foot on the cabinet as though it were already a sign of her victory. "and I need you to help Greengrass."_

The Greengrass family was another Pureblood line. His mind had immediately gone to his classmate. "Daphne's in trouble?"

 _"Ugh," she sounded sickened by the thought. "That slut? As if- she can fend for herself as the Dark Lord takes their mansion."_

"He what?" Draco had abandoned his etiquette in hopes of gaining more information.

 _"Takes the Greengrass mansion, and funds." Apparently his expression had been amusing, because she snorted in the manner of a laugh. "What, don't tell me you thought war was cheap? As time goes on and His war is getting longer and his forces grow, even The Dark Lord needs to maintain the perks for his soldiers. The Greengrass fortune is even larger than your own, Malfoy- though I hear that has dwindled since His rise- and He will soon decide it is necessary for His purposes."_

"So..." he took a moment to wrap his mind around this. Lord Voldemort had indeed been all but bleeding his family dry in the past years, and the idea of him moving on to other Pureblood families was at once a relief and a dismay; this war would go on far longer than he'd imagined. "So what do you suggest?"

 _"I'll get_ this _working for you." she kicked the cabinet into a standing position, a feat that would only be that smoothly possible with a touch of magic. "And you keep an eye on Tori."_

"Tori... you mean Astoria? Daphne's sister?"

 _"Yes." She said like the answer should have been glaringly obvious, setting a hand on her hips as she twirled a hazel wand in her left hand. "So, Malfoy, is it a deal? I save this cabinet- which, incidentally, also saves your own hide- and_ you _make sure Tori Greengrass survives this war underneath the Dark Lord's radar."_

What did she really want? He had asked himself. She spoke of Lord Voldemort like a devoted follower, but both of her forearms were bare of any mark or scar. She revealed his plans like it was afternoon gossip and, it seemed, she held the means invade Hogwarts in the palm of her hand for a while now. If she was truly one of his followers, she would have let the Death Eaters in immediately. In fact, Draco realized, she should do so now and herself, she had no need to give him any kind of credit. This trade was saving him twice over by both completing his job and by allowing Voldemort to think it was him and him alone who succeeded. She either was secretly against the Dark Lord or seriously cared about this Tori girl.

At the time, it hadn't occured to Draco Malfoy that the true answer might be both.

"Are you..." he had hesitated to ask, but had needed to know the risk this had truly entailed. "Are you a double agent?"

 _"Don't be stupid, double agents just get themselves killed." she scoffed, pulling out a small blade as she turned to a cabinet. Draco Malfoy's only choice was to take her offer and they both knew it. "I have no plans for dying anytime soon. What about you?"_

That was the night Death Eaters had successfully invaded Hogwarts. That was the night that Albus Dumbledore, finally and truly, died. That girl, of course, had been Zelina Avery, Xavier's younger sister and a decent hand at shady magics herself.

Both for his sake and his wife's, Draco Malfoy would cut through all the damned red tape that was stopping his efforts.

Even if he had to march into the office of the Minister of Magic himself to do it.

* * *

Jonovan Malam Orion woke with a stiff neck and his arm asleep under his head. With a groan he sat up on the couch, the living room illuminated by the television still playing the science fiction channel. It must have been an explosion or something that'd knocked him from his rest; usually he slept like the dead.

He paused to realize the surrealness of the moment; he'd fallen asleep to and then been woken by a television. After months of being immersed in wizarding culture it was a weird feeling. Jonovan realized he'd missed it. Magic was nice… but the familiar reality of the world was better.

Of course that was when an alien jumped onto the screen and started screaming scientific nonsense.

A soft grumble and rustling fabric made him turn to his left, seeing Zoey turn over on the recliner and put a hand over her eyes to block out the light.

His muscles aching Jon sat up from the loveseater he was long enough to occupy alone, and often did. Turning the screen off with the remote he ignored the needling of his waking arm and went over to Zoey, seeing her curled up around a couch pillow like some sort of cat.

"Zo." He whispered, nudging her shoulder. "Zoey, get up."

"...no." she turned over and buried her face into the corner of the couch, her voice slurred with sleep.

"Com'on Zoey." Jon sighed and shook her with more force. "You can't sleep here."

"Why no'? I's _my_ birtday."

"It-" he paused. He knew she was referring to the couch while he meant the whole home, but her words struck a chord. Zoey obviously needed a break, and it _was_ her birthday after all- why send her back to Hogwarts? Why shouldn't she celebrate where she wanted to? It was the weekend.

Smiling, he pulled the pillow from her grip. "Bed. Let's go." he prompted her for a few more minutes, without success. Zoey was an early riser- usually up on her own by 6 am- but when she was asleep she was deep asleep. Fairytale-princess style.

Or, Jon sulked, Dreamless-Sleep Draught style. Magic really did take the fun out of everything, he decided as he picked her up, grunting "This is not part of my job description" even though she hadn't grown an inch in the past four years and was fairly easy to carry.

She patted his side, smiling. "I'll mak' pancakes."

"Now that's a bribe," he said approvingly as he carried her up to her bed, a path so worn he could do it with his eyes closed. As he set her down and covered her with her featherbed he took a moment to look at her- _really_ look- and see that his image of her had changed over the day.

He'd always thought of Zo as a brat, one that he was fond of and related to, but an annoyance nonetheless. Her 'moments' of maturity were just that- moments inbetween her persistent childish personality. Moments that hinted toward the adult she could someday be but was far from becoming.

Now, however, he found himself reevaluating everything. Her cheery front was thicker than he'd realized. Zoey had been living with adult concerns and stress ever since she'd moved in with him and his parents. And now that he thought about it, she always became serious when it came to serious situations. It was her childish moments, reserved for trivial matters, that didn't fully suit her. It was as though she were desperately trying to cling to her chance for innocence.

As though sensing his stern gaze Zoey frowned in her sleep and rolled over, reaching for her stuffed animals. She fumbled for a moment until her hand felt the right one and pulled out a stuffed seal from the mountain of toys, kissing it on the fuzzy forehead before she hugged him to her chest.

Jon snorted at the image and reset the blanket on her shoulders, but relaxed. She really was a brat- a surprisingly capable brat, he had discovered today, but not an ignorant one. He patted the seal she'd had since she was four and named 'Seabert', with all the originality of a child.

All in all, despite what he'd discovered Zoey was still as important and vulnerable to Jon as she'd always been. She was still his responsibility and, of course, his cousin. Practically a younger sibling in Jon's eyes and one hundred percent his top priority.

Unfortunately he had other responsibilities as well. Jon left her room quietly as possible and apparated to Hogsmeade, making his way to Hogwarts so he could grab the papers he needed to grade by Monday morning.

Walking inside he navigated the empty halls, pursing his lips at the litter. A number of the school 'Scandals' newspaper was strewn about. Jon had checked over the piece during the first few weeks of school, but finding it largely consisting of trivial teenage gossip instead of news he had dismissed it.

The boy walking in front of him cursed as he accidentally dropped his copy, fumbling with the several books and bags he was juggling in his rush to get back to his dorm.

"Here," Jon picked it up and held it out, surprised by the boy's reaction. The lad paled visibly as he looked between the paper and the man who held it out to him, then he turned and ran down the hall, loosing quite a few more sheets as his went.

Ah, Jon realized, it was well after curfew. He was probably expected to pursue the student and issue detention. But he wasn't on patrol this night, so Jon let him leave and summoned the mess of strewn notes to his hand. Looking through them with proud curiosity- there was a surprising amount of detail here- he stopped dead as his eyes fell back upon the Scandals article.

The featured article accompanied a picture of him and Zoey, years ago on one of their family vacations. She usually kept that tucked in her journal, and it hadn't moved the way this one was. She'd wanted to keep the polaroid snapshot muggle. Jon quickly skimmed the article to judge why the image was of interest to the students.

It was a good thing that boy had run off, because Orion's anger flared so suddenly his magic burned the entire stack of notes along with the paper in his hands. Far away Rasputin woke with a hiss, slipping out of his locked cage to stand at his master's side. Four eyes glowed an acidic green while Jon pulled in his anger and popped his neck, using his magic to recreate the article he had just cindered.

After all, Jonovan Orion would need the evidence if he was going to track the culprit.

* * *

 _Tada! the long-awaited exposition of Jonovan and Zoey's relationship. It was so hard to write in a way that flowed naturally- I hope it turned out okay. It ended up taking longer than I'd planned but I wanted to really address everything I was willing to share at this point._

 _Just in case anyone missed it- Jon and Zoey are COUSINS. They grew up in the same house because of what happened to Zoey's parents. Jon was 13, Zoey was 5 on the day she moved in. Aunt Mary/Uncle Peter are 100% muggle, and don't know that Hogwarts even exists. Jon (22 yrs old) is acting as Zoey's legal guardian for the time being._

 _I do have a whole backstory set up for Zelina, Draco, Astoria, and some of Dumbledore's Army- but the only person who knows all of that story has lost her memories, so... you'll have to wait for further details. bwahaha_

 _And yes, this chapter sets up the conflicts of quite a few character-developing conflicts for the next generation characters. Enjoy!_

 _~E_


	22. Ch 22 Uncharted Waters

**Ch. 22- Uncharted Waters**

* * *

Even on a normal day, when Jonovan Malam Orion walked through the halls of Hogwarts people got out of his way. He was an intense person, both in the classroom and out of it, everybody felt and adjusted slightly to his presence no matter what they were doing. This particular morning, as he marched through the school with sharp steps and a piercing gaze, students _ran._

His stride was accompanied by speculative whispers, everyone thinking the same thing; he'd seen the article. He must have. And, it seemed, he'd found the culprit. Everyone was panicking at the idea of what he was going to do to the author of the _Scandals…_ and intrigued. So any student the Assistant walked by scuttled out of his path, held their breath for a few agonizing seconds, then joined the growing crowd that trailed a distance behind him.

Their assumptions as to his punishment became more medieval as they walked, speculation going from incinerating the culprit to using Filtch's old torture tools. Orion knew they were following him, knew they were expecting a show, but he was unconcerned. He needed to confirm the identity of the culprits before giving the spectacle he felt was deserved.

His entrance into the Great Hall was understated, finally curbing in his smoldering temper to glide forward at a less clipped pace. The other Professors barely looked up, though so many students gathered on a Sunday morning was a mite unusual. Walking along the Ravenclaw table Jon scanned their faces until he found the one he was looking for, calling the name to mind: Lysander Scamander, Sixth Year Keeper, frequent companion of Zoey on a daily basis, penchant for keeping his nose in a book and also a House… Prefect. With a twin brother. Orion paused, his fingers moving slowly against nothing as his mind swirled with fresh possibilities.

Lysander has looked up at the Assistant's approach, his heel slowly tapping on the ground as he waited. It was obvious that Orion had been seeking him out, but something seemed to have stopped the man short. He followed the gaze to his right chest, where his Ravenclaw House and Prefect Badges gleamed side by side on his blue lined robes.

"Scamander," Orion muttered, seemingly more to himself than the boy in front of him.

"Sir?" he eventually ventured after waiting for the man to continue. "Did you need something?"

Finally lifting his gaze to look the boy in the eye, Orion waited a heartbeat before nodding once. His voice, while not particularly loud, still carried easily toward the eavesdroppers. "Indeed. I am considering assigning a teacher's aid to assist grading next semester; for extra credit, of course. I would like you for the position, but I seem to have forgotten your many responsibilities. Would you have time for anything else?"

Many Ravenclaw eyes had gleamed at the words 'extra credit', but they didn't dare jump in to claim the opportunity. Lysander was too well respected for that. The crowd that had stalked Orion glanced at each other; what was this? Did the assistant actually _not_ know about the article yet? They tried to hide their disappointment as they started to disperse.

The boy nodded once. "I may be able to- but to be honest, sir, I am not certain. It will depend on our success in the quidditch finals so, not to insult, but I sincerely hope that I won't."

Orion half smiled in his usual manner, taking a piece of bacon off the table and feeding it to Rasputin as the murtlap stood on his shoulder. "None taken. I'll have to watch the season, then-" he half turned to go and then stopped, looking back as though he'd just remembered "-Oh. I meant to congratulate you on your costume on Halloween. That raven mask you made was well-inspired and quite unique. It would have been nice had you been at the feast."

"Thank you, sir. I actually was at the feast, but in a different mask. My brother Lorcan, in one of his usual impulsive whims, grew bored of his and took mine. I didn't mind; the costume made reading rather difficult."

A number of Ravenclaws nodded agreement with the notion.

"Silver lining," Orion muttered, turning away. "See you at class, Lysander."

Lysander went back to the book he'd put under the table for their conversation, thinking the exchange strangely brief but more interested in adjusting his personal schedule to get that extra credit.

Jonovan joined the Professor's table, whispering to his familiar. As his master sat for a quick breakfast, the murtlap dropped to the floor and vanished with purpose among the many feet below the tables of the Great Hall. Rasputin had a mission.

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy rolled his neck in an attempt to loosen the muscles that were threatening to lock up on him. He and the Slytherin team had spent most all of Saturday running drills on the practice field, which had been open because of a freezing rain. Odetta, of course, had jumped on the vacancy and used the whole field to scrimmage starters against reserves.

It had been the best practice of the year, despite the foul weather and persisting cold he would have for a few days. Scorpius had been on the reserve group- begrudgingly- but they'd given the starters a good run for their money. In fact, if they hadn't been running the same plays against each other Scorpius suspected that he might have scored even more hoops. Even though they'd been less skilled he and the two other reserves has passed liberally between themselves and gained an edge, as the trio was concerned with getting progress and not just individual scoring. They'd 'lost' by only twenty points, and that was while muscling a path through the starters' very physical defense.

Luckily he'd avoided the bludgers that'd been sent his way; with his pale complexion he was sporting some very large and dark bruises just from stray elbows and body blows. He didn't particularly relish the idea of sporting larger wounds, though for another game like that he would take it gladly. It had been exhilarating. _That_ was how quidditch was supposed to be played- brains and strategy overtaking brute force. Or at least getting close.

Despite his soft bed the night had been distinctly uncomfortable with his swelling injuries, so even though Scorpius knew that he should be taking advantage of the vacant Library this Sunday morning he found that he wasn't particularly keen to get up from the Slytherin Common's soft couch. Besides, his new research focus wasn't easily found outside of the Restricted Section.

" _That'll put me in the path of his queen!_ " one of the white pawns protested her decree. " _Make_ him _move instead!"_

Priscilla just cleared her throat at her errant set, it was recently purchased and still needed a bit of breaking in. The enchanted stonework took her order with no small amount of muttered protests. " _Always the pawns that get pushed around…"_

He heard Priscilla tap the clock and looked back down at their chess match, quickly seeing which of her options she'd chosen before responding "Knight to F6."

It moved without hesitation.

"You seem distracted," Priscilla Parkinson asked as she took his black bishop and ignored the pieces' conversation- " _No! No not me, you'll lose that pawn next turn!"_ it protested while the pawn shrilly cried " _Victory or death!"-_ instead looking up at her younger friend through her eyelashes. "Does that have anything to do with Halloween night?"

"Our excursion wasn't as successful as I'd hoped." Scorpius answered. She meant more than the trip into the Restricted Section, but that was all he'd talk about at the moment. He had too many mixed emotions about the other things that'd happened since.

Priscilla seemed to realize this, and sighed as she looked at the board. She was acting disappointed but wasn't actually surprised by his insistence on focusing on other things instead. "Are you serious about this sorcery hogwash? That's just a muggle fantasy."

"Funny thing about their 'fantasies'-" Scorpius muttered, "About half the time they tend to be right. After all, _we_ exist, don't we? I'm not saying _their_ description of sorcery exists, but what if at one point it was a branch of magic that was specialized in? There are countless types and fields of magic out there. Who's to say that, over the years, a few haven't been forgotten? Who's to say that squibs don't just have a different kind of magic than most?"

She clapped lightly with a touch of dry sarcasm. "Bravo. All that from one word in some dead guy's diary."

"Memoire." Scorpius corrected her, not out of pettiness but rectifying a fact.

Her eyes twinkled with rare mischief, but her response was lost as she caught sight of the girl descending from the dorms. She poked Zambini, who was sleeping unceremoniously across the couch beside them. "She's up."

Marcellous Zambini, despite being known as being a somewhat lazy bum, was up in an instant, throwing off the green couch blanket he'd been using as he scrambled to become vertical. "Melissa!" He rushed to the stairs before he gathered himself, offering his hand for the last few steps in a gentlemanly manner. "How was your night?"

Melissa Goyle blushed but took his hand, muttering quietly "Good. No one really said anything."

"That's a mark for success," Priscilla nodded approvingly as she sat up and watched their previously exiled friend walk among the Slytherin group as though she'd always belonged. With the focus of the school on the new Scandals piece the hazing of the other squibs had reduced considerably. They'd convinced Melissa to leave the Hospital Wing late last night. "Say what you would about that ridiculous article, but the change of rumors had done that girl wonders."

"You don't want to know what I have to say about it," Scorpius promised as he picked up their forgotten chess match. Zambini's blanket had knocked the pieces over, much to their disapproval. " _No respect for old traditions these days,"_ his black king huffed. " _You better polish us properly after this."_

He didn't respond- his pieces were painstakingly waxed after every match until they glimmered good as new, and they knew it.

"It's a pity," Priscilla murmured, pulling him back to the present. "I liked Orion. This is the kind of career-ending scandal that could get him fired."

"Only if McGonagall gets actual evidence." Scorpius protested, though he wasn't sure why.

"Perception is reality, Malfoy. I'm fairly certain we all learned that our first day here." she spoke dryly, and to Scorpius's practiced ear he heard her lingering bitterness over that fact. He again wondered just how poorly she'd been treated alone her First Year, as the first child of the losing side to attend Hogwarts.

He eventually decided she wasn't looking for an answer. Scorpius knew she was right anyways; while the students were preparing to lynch the transfer upon her return the Faculty would undoubtedly do much the same to Orion.

The Slytherin had mixed feelings about the rumors going around. They upset him greatly, because while he wouldn't put something shady past that Orion character or be sad to see the assistant go he had trouble believing Zoethia Malam capable of that kind of duplicity. Scorpius was aware of her... fondness, for the Assistant, but he didn't see it as anything greater than that.

And Wainbata didn't deserve the no doubt cruel reception she'd get upon her return.

"Get out of the way," Theodore Nott told Melissa and Zambini as he brushed the bedhead out of his black hair. "Stop crowding the stairs you two, I've got practice to get to."

Scorpius looked up at the statement. "Dueling club?"

"Aye." Nott agreed as he walked by, then paused with surprise as Malfoy fell into step beside him. "You're coming?"

"Why not?" Scorpius muttered, looking down as he put his pieces back in their cushioned case. "It's good to observe the skills of the supposed best."

"Oi, that 'supposed' better not have been directed my way."

"Of course not," he said smoothly, but with a note of amusement. "I was planning to critique the other House teams. It'll be a laugh- maybe even fun."

He missed Nott's expression of distaste.

Priscilla looked between the boys and the rest of the common room, and decided that their activities would likely be more entertaining. She unfolded from her chair with the casual grace of rigid Pureblood upbringing. "Is there a chance we could join in for the day?"

Nott looked between the two impromptu participants, and then shrugged. He hoped his answer wouldn't scare them off- it'd be neat if they joined the club permanently. "Yeah, but you won't get to duel any standing members."

Malfoy looked Priscilla up and down. It had been a while since their last duel; years in fact. Priscilla had trounced him on the premise of actually knowing offensive spells, while his arsenal had only consisted of shields and _Verdimillous_ at that point. "I could be content with that."

She caught the challenge in his gaze and smirked. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Looking between the two of them a second time, Nott adjusted his wish. He hoped _they_ wouldn't scare off the rest of his club by breaking the arena.

* * *

There were few places as peaceful as a library. And Rose Granger-Weasley, daughter of Hermione Granger herself, knew Hogwarts' library like the back of her hand. Many a weekend she had spent exploring every shelf and studying over an old desk, sometimes well into the night.

This year, after gaining access to the Restricted Section to help tutor the transfer, her explorations had been renewed with the dual purpose of avoiding the drama that her family was catching itself in and- well- new books!

The novelty of it had quickly worn off though, as without anything particular to look for all that happened was Rose becoming disappointed in the random, unilluminating contents that were banned for the mere concept. There were books on lots of powerful magics, but most of it was dark magic and she wasn't interested in that.

So, when Rose Weasley was in the library the Sunday morning after the chaos of Halloween night and Saturday's publication of the scandal, it was for normal schoolwork. She'd gotten up at the crack of dawn to revise the essay she had been dragged away from on Halloween night. To sneak into Ravenclaw Tower in Roxanne's place.

She tapped her quill on the parchment for a few moments, her memories distracting her focus. A copy of the Scandals article lay by her work, and Zoey's smiling face kept waving at her before getting 'chased' by Orion. The image had seemed like such concrete evidence when she'd first seen it move, but after hearing Lily and Hugo's complaints she had to admit it more… innocent than she'd originally allowed herself to see. Rose wondered how the others felt now that the deed was done and they'd successfully revealed the illicit relationship.

Nonetheless, she tucked her copy of the article into one of her books so it would stop distracting her.

At the time it had seemed like it really wasn't so bad to give the picture to Creevy for publication. It had been a relief to be done with the night and just go to bed, to forget the stress of it. She'd escaped that patrol, they finally had proof of the transfer and the Assistant being up to something, and Rose remembered how she'd wanted nothing more than to bury her head in a pillow and fall asleep. Halloween hadn't been easy for her.

When Rose had entered the Ravenclaw Girls Dormitories she had experienced a moment of panic; all the bronze-rimmed four poster beds were in the same long hallway- around the edge of the tower- and unlike Gryffindor tower, they weren't grouped together. It had left her with a panic on how to know whose bed was whose, because Rose definitely didn't want to snoop around more than she had to.

After walking down the beds a few times she had eliminated all the beds with photos on the nightstands, as those all featured a different Ravenclaw than the one she was targeting. Thinking about it for a few moments, Rose had gone into the clothes drawers until she found one filled with Zoey's signature blue-and-black striped stockings. She'd done it- she'd identified where she needed to investigate. The success was short lived as she realized she'd just killed the perfect excuse to tell James' she couldn't find anything. Rose had been pushed into trying, so that didn't mean she had to try _hard._

There Rose stood, literally inside one of the most private places in anyone's life, and realized she was about to rummage about like a common thief.

She sat back on Zoey's bed and grasped her shaking hands, weighing her options. It wasn't like she was worried about getting caught- the bed space wasn't immaculate but it wasn't messy either. The place was indicative of a person who misplaced things.

On one hand, Rose had her personal morals and this was seriously pushing the envelope. On the other hand, she yearned to know more about the transfer. Though James hadn't seen Kingsley's name on the Marauder's Map ever again they both knew it had been there, and Uncle Harry had told them to never doubt it.

Was Zoey some sort of Ministry agent? She didn't believe Christine Creevy's wild theories, but still… with such little information anything could be construed. Frustrated, Rose had dropped her head into the pillow with a groan, an habit often done in her own dorm room.

"Ow," She said in surprise and put her hand to her smarting forehead, lifting the pillow to see what was under it. Just the bed, but… the pillowcase was oddly heavy. Reaching her hand inside she grasped a leather bound book.

What was this doing in a pillowcase? Intrigued, Rose undid the bindings and found it filled with what looked like another language. On closer inspection, though, the script looked vexingly similar to her classwork in Ancient Runes. Close enough to make the connection but varied enough that she couldn't read at a glance.

Her guilt forgotten she had flipped through the pages, finding that random sections would have a word or two she could understand. Her mind raced- she could translate this! Given enough time, of course.

It must be one of the handwritten accounts from the Ravenclaw's private library, Rose had decided. How intriguing... Lysander was always talking about how the smartest people of his house would make reports of their various experiments and the best would be left for future students to explore. And how some would leave puzzles and challenges, so this was likely a combination of both.

Zoey shouldn't even have something like this, Rose had thought with frustration, because if the transfer had time for rune reading and puzzles then she wasn't devoting enough to her main studies.

The book flipped a chunk forward to where a picture had been wedged between the pages. Surprised, Rose grabbed it and looked at it with a frown. It was of Assistant Orion, much younger, standing in front of a castle with something blurry at his back.

She didn't recognize the castle from her studies. It didn't look very functional- far too many skinny towers and a huge drawbridge entrance but no moat to speak of. Scanning the open book Rose found the name 'Disney' spelled out a few times, but it meant nothing to her. Looking back at the picture again, she guessed that the shape was a person, but at the time she couldn't make out the blur for the life of her either.

Why would Zoey use a picture of the Assistant from such a long time ago as a _bookmark_? The only reason she could think of, besides the standing theory that Zoey and Orion were- her nose had crinkled- illicitly entangled, was some sort of blackmail. After a moment of unease, Rose had decided to take it to Creevy. If she could enchant it into moving, they would find out more about the mysterious Assistant. It could be the proof to show how their relationship really stood. And if Orion was being blackmailed, surely he would want someone on the outside to help.

Bringing the book with her hadn't even been in question. It was a challenge after all, and when else would she have the opportunity to read a book from Ravenclaw's private library? She just wanted a chance to study the strange Runes. Besides, it wasn't like she would show a _schoolbook_ to James; he wouldn't be interested in the slightest.

She had left Ravenclaw dormitories with a feeling of accomplishment.

Now she was just guilty. While the photo had turned out being exactly what they'd been looking for, she had honestly forgotten the existence of the leather book for a while. After rediscovering it and translating the first few pages Rose had been horrified to read not any kind of case study report but instead a private journal _._ The first entry was logged years ago. She didn't know why it felt so out-of-character for Zoey Malam to keep a _diary_ , but the evidence was right in front of her.

While immensely relieved that she hadn't told anyone else about it, Rose had become worried about what to do with it. It wasn't like she could just waltz back into the Ravenclaw Dorms and put it back where she found it. Burning or destroying it would be the easiest way to hide her criminal action, but… she didn't think she could stomach that guilt. It was bad enough that she'd accidentally stolen something so private, her conscience couldn't take _destroying_ it too. She just wanted a way to give it back without Zoey ever knowing it'd been missing.

At least now she knew why Zoey didn't pester her for help in Ancient Runes on top of all her other classes. She'd been surprised when Albus mentioned the transfer was in that elective course, but it made sense now. Zoey already knew the Runic Alphabet, or at least something very similar. She must have learned from her magical mother…

"...ooose? Rosie? Are you awake?" Waving her hand in front of her cousin's face, Roxanne tried to hold in her snickers.

Blinking out of her thoughts Rose blushed as she realized Rox had been talking at her for a while. "Sorry, what?"

"I was asking for advice on my DA essay," Rox shook her head, visibly bemused as she sat at the study table. "This is a first, though."

"What is?"

"Me the one working on my classwork, and _you_ the one staring off into a daydream. I should mark my calendar."

Rose rolled her eyes and looked back down at her essay, but found that her focus fell to Roxanne's table instead. There another copy of _Scandals_ was laying next to the ink bottle, the young Zoey was giggling innocently as she tried to hold on to Orion's spinning. Catching her breath she kissed him lightly on the cheek, then cried silently as she was dropped below the frame.

It was done, Rose reminded herself as she tore her gaze away. Over with. Mission accomplished. Finito. There was _no use_ worrying about it anymore- Rox certainly wasn't.

"Knut for your thoughts?"

Rose blinked again as she was brought back to reality for the second time, and then sighed. It seemed her mind just would not allow her rest until she got through this. "What do you think of it?"

"Not her best work," Roxanne admitted as she followed Rose's vague gesture to the article, "But even Creevy has her off days I suppose."

"No, I mean- it's just-" what _was_ bothering her about it? "I- what now? I mean all the students know now, but why didn't James take it to a professor yet?"

"He's not going to."

"What?" Rose's mouth dropped open. "But- but wasn't that the entire point of it all? To tell someone that can do something about it?"

"Um, Rosie, this _was_ doing something about it. Everyone will know soon enough. We just cut out a step that would slow us down." She tapped her nail on the article itself. "Or at least, that's what James would say. Or maybe that we shouldn't let anyone else do what we can. James says that a lot too."

The saying was vaguely similar to 'want it done right, do it yourself', but somehow Rose felt like the difference was important. She put that away for later. "Why were you so ready to help? Did _you_ see the transfer do something suspicious?" Her tone turned curious.

"Nope. But you and James did. That's all I needed; it's not like you two would lie to us."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "I once told you that Grandma Molly's cookies would turn your hair green so I could have them all to myself." She wasn't embarrassed. She'd been five at the time, and it hadn't worked; Rox had been disappointed her hair didn't change colors.

"All right, all right-" She laughed. "-You wouldn't lie to me about anything _important._ It's part of being family, right?"

She nodded mutely. Finding out Rox had such unwavering faith in her made Rose nervous, like she'd been handed an award she hadn't even competed for.

"What about you? What did you want to find out about the transfer?"

"Well there was the Map thing, but it was more… just… she just doesn't make any sense," Rose admitted, her frustration spilling out. "I mean, first her hair. Why the blazes does she make it so many colors? What's wrong with a normal blond, or brown? Some days I would _kill_ for a normal brown."

"Hey-" Roxanne almost protested, then looked at her own red curls with a frown. "Okay, I get the point."

Emboldened by her agreement, Rose went on "And I mean, transferring in the first place? Why wasn't she here with the rest of us- I mean, with her lack of magic it almost seems like she was denied schooling then wormed her way into Hogwarts with help from the Ministry."

As always her mouth had moved ahead of her mind, but this time Rose knew she'd voiced a sound theory. Roxanne's eyes had widened and she nodded slowly, "That could be…"

"Not to mention- a _Ravenclaw?_ Seriously? How does a transfer student who can't even pass her own classes get into that house? I mean, the Sorting Hat didn't even consider _me_ for Ravenclaw, and you know how smart I am." It wasn't fair.

"Fred would say you're stereotyping."

"And I would say stereotypes are born from statistics." Raising her nose a touch at the playful teasing, Rose felt pleased with her rebuttal. That is, until she caught sight of a beady-eyed murtlap that was sitting atop books forgotten on neighboring study table. Orion's familiar.

Seeing her cousin's face pale alarmingly, Rox followed her gaze and froze in a moment of fear as well. "How long has it been there?" she asked as they watched it watch them.

Rose just shook her head as Rasputin's quills rize in sharp spikes. The way the thing's eyes were glowing a soft green was not encouraging either. A cold chill went down Rose's back and she wondered if this feeling of impending doom was what her mother went through in her days evading Death Eaters. "It knows…"

Rox's eyes snapped to her cousin's. "No it doesn't."

"But why else would it be here? _Eavesdropping_ on us?"

"It's a RAT, Rose. It's too stupid to know a word we're saying."

Rasputin growled at the insult, a soft sound that echoed in the quiet corner of the library. Then it jumped the gap between tables, landing squarely on the _Scandals_ article by Roxanne's schoolwork.

Rose whimpered quietly despite herself as it started shredding the paper.

"Look, don't panic, okay? Just- be cool. We'll just take our stuff, and finish our homework in the Commons. Perfectly natural." Rox was used to the post-prank jitters that Rose was melting under. She wasn't, however, used to the spiked rat-thing that Orion had as a familiar. The thing always creeped her out even when it wasn't using her papers to sharpen its half-inch claws.

Both girls hurriedly gathered their things and started walking out of the library as it started shredding the article. After turning a few corners and hearing a soft scrabble of claws, they nervously looked around to see Rasputin easily keeping up with them, leaping atop the bookshelves and obstacles without looking away from the two Gryffindors below him.

They turned left. The murtlap followed. The girls looked at each other nervously.

He jumped to the left bookshelf, they turned right… Rasputin was behind them again just a few minutes later.

"It's following us…"

"I can see that," Roxanne muttered, biting her thumbnail. Rose's paranoia was starting to get to her; what if Orion _was_ having his familiar following them? What should they do, what should they-

Rose let out a 'umph' as she turned the corner and bumped into somebody walking the other way, dropping her books and essays. "What was that for?" she groused nervously as she knelt and started separating her stuff from his.

"It was hardly intentional," the Ravenclaw boy responded as he bent down to grab his books, _A History of Wandlore_ and _Methodology and Theories of Wandless Magics._ Rose frowned at the contradicting titles.

He picked up her _Scandals_ article that had been tucked in her copy of _Hogwarts, a History_ , and Rose reached to grab it from him. In a deceptively casual movement he pulled it just out of her reach, his eyes fixed on the picture. Zoey was laughing in it again. His gaze darkened even as they glittered green as he looked up and met her gaze. "Where's Lysander?"

The two girls glanced at each other, surprised by the question. "Why would you ask _us_ that?" Roxanne countered.

"You were with him Halloween night." He said calmly, like he was talking about flowers. Even with the layer of calm there was an intensity about him that set the girls on edge. Like a snake sunning in the grass, not threatening but certainly still dangerous.

Rose felt her heart leap to her throat; it was _him._ The Ravenclaw that had been in the tower Halloween night and answered the riddle password, the 'blink' guy. Rasputin behind her, this guy ahead of her- it was official, Rose realized, she was doomed. "I- er-"

"Of course she wasn't," Roxanne said smoothly, picking up some of the papers herself. "Why would you think that?"

His gaze flicked to her briefly before locking on to Rose, the action almost dismissive. "You, a Gryffindor, were in Ravenclaw Tower two nights ago. To get something for… 'Christine'. I didn't realize Prefects were allowed to grant students access to the Common Rooms of other Houses. What was so urgent that required you to be there for her, but so unimportant that she wouldn't retrieve it herself?"

Roxanne started at that- Rose should have been under the Invisibility Cloak, how had she been seen? That was the entire point of borrowing it from Albus in the first place. She looked at her cousin inadvertently, and groaned internally as Rose blushed the famous Weasley crimson.

Startled by their combined looks of accusation, Rose panicked. "Nothing! Nothing, honest. It was something stupid that couldn't wait, so we had to go _right then_ and it was just, um- a- her diary!" Rose winced at her big mouth, knowing why that answer had popped out but hating how close to the truth it was. Why couldn't she be better at lying? She had no choice but to go with it now though. She took a breath to calm herself and try sounding more believable. "Creevy needed me to grab her diary. Dunno why, I didn't ask. Those things are private."

Rose felt like the smile she gave him would break her face.

Decent job, Roxanne thought. Rose was getting almost passable at lying. If only her face hadn't turned as red as her hair; at least the girl had tilted her face so her bright hair covered the worst of it.

"A diary?" He repeated, his voice still tight. "You still shouldn't have been there. Unsupervised. You could have been up to anything."

He knew, he knew, oh _Merlin_ he knew- Rose was doomed. Completely. But she tried to salvage the situation. "No, no that- it's- noneofyourbusiness."

"You do not mess with a girl and her privacy," Rox intervened, deciding that it was about time to save her fumbling cousin. "And while you're at it, don't bother Lysander about it- he's a busy man."

Tilting his head at Roxanne in a way that reminded her of a hawk, the boy narrowed green eyes and then smiled. The expression didn't match his face. "Oh I won't. Now if you excuse me, I have protection spells to cast. I don't want my stuff pilfered through on-" he paused, before finishing the sentence with sarcasm. "-'accident'."

"But I would never-" Rose protested at the implied accusation, but it died on her lips at the piercing look he gave her, his acid gaze practically daring her to finish that lie. Because after all, she realized as she watched him go, she already had.

"Weird dude..." Roxanne mumbled as the boy turned the corner, looking up at the bookshelves with relief "At least the rat is following him now. What was his name again?"

* * *

Nott led Scorpius and Priscilla outside to the brisk fall day, a light layer of snow crunching underfoot as they made their way to the dueling arena. As they walked, Nott dismissed his earlier concerns about his friend's destructive potential. Powerful as they each were, there was reason for most club activities taking place outdoors toward the end of the grounds. Their target range was against one of spell-absorbing barriers of the school and the targets themselves, of course, were _supposed_ to be damaged on impact. The practice dueling pits were lowered twelve feet below the rest of the grounds and the main one, well, that one was different practically every day. Curtesy of their very own Professor Longbottom. Finally, he had faith in the club's supervision abilities to keep things under control.

Nott stopped them in front of a floating blackboard, tapping his wand on it with a trace of impatience. Chalk words started writing themselves in a hasty script that Scorpius recognized from his herbology classes as Professor Longbottom's, reading:

 **DUMBLEDORE'S DUELING CLUB**

 **Target field Agenda:**

Reducto

Stupefy

Petrificus Totalus

 **Obstacle Course:** OPEN

 **Dueling Pits:** CLOSED

 **Advanced Arena:** RESERVED for Club Council

 _There will be no wand waving, or silly incantations in this Club_

The piece of chalk hesitated, then underlined the last words a second time before setting itself back down. Nott looked over the list, then realized he should probably explain "We don't do everything every day. And we don't use equipment without supervision, unless you're on the club council."

"This club has a council?" Priscilla asked in mild disbelief, wondering how a book-bound group of people would fit in with a bunch of spellslingers like Nott.

"Of course," Nott said with a secretive grin, "Longbottom actually leaves a lot of the coaching to the council reps- says it's more in keeping with the foundation of the club to have students teaching eachother. Not to mention he and Sybble can't coach all of us all the time." He turned and started walking away.

"Professor Sybble." Scorpius repeated the name of their Head of House without infliction, but Nott knew he'd been surprised.

"She _is_ the Dark Arts Professor." Priscilla pointed out as they followed him. "Stands to reason she'd consult for a club like this."

"Yes, well- like I said, she's not here all the time. I think we'll have to check you in with Sarge for now." Nott predicted their confusion over the title "We didn't want to call our council leader 'Captain' cuz that's what the Quidditch players get, so we call him the Sergeant."

"Let me guess-" Scorpius asked as they approached the advanced arena, imagining the kind of person who would enjoy such a militaristic title. "He's a Gryffindor."

"Nope." Nott grinned again. "Hufflepuff."

"Hufflepuff?" Scorpius and Priscilla said in a unified surprise. Everyone knew that the dueling club was inter-House, but to be headed by a _Hufflepuff…?_ Priscilla wondered if Nott's description of the club was inflated. Their remark went unaddressed.

"Those're the targets," Nott pointed to the sight where twenty or so students were practicing the spells from listed on the chalkboard at circles that floated and moved. "Some of the stunners can only be done with supervision, though. Pits are closed today but they're over there-" he waved in the direction of the dueling pits even though the trenches in the ground couldn't be seen from this angle "-And here is the Advanced Arena."

His tone changed to one of pride as they approached the last area, where almost a dozen people were gathered around to watch. While the dueling pits were traditional long arenas to compare skills against a single opponent, the advanced arena was combined with the features of the club obstacle course to provide a more stimulating challenge. It was a tower of living vines that moved and grew even as the combatants dueled inside, gaining and losing the high ground as stairs and platforms and walls erupted and receded into the environment without warning.

Two people contested inside the living arena, their wands out and sending spell after spell. Sections of the walls would crumble from the missed shots and then regrow with alarming speed, the vines writhing and moving more like a collection of snakes than plants.

One of the duelists, a slight freckle-faced girl with her hair in a high braid, was sending a flurry of ice spells at her opponent. Her accuracy wasn't the best but it was clear to see that she could maintain her assault relentlessly, her only breaks occurring when she had to find more stable footing.

Her opponent was a tall lad who was moving with surprising speed for his large frame, dodging between pillars and walls without warning. His robe was scorched in quite a few places and he was looking far more fatigued, his bangs clinging to his face with sweat despite the chill of the air. Still, the shots he fired were done with pinpoint accuracy, hitting the platform the girl stood on to disrupt the plants and force her to either move or shield her footing.

The trio of Slytherins slowed to watch. The crowd of assorted House kids were whispering and placing bets on the match between the councilmembers, all standing behind a ring of bright red toadstools on the ground that was obviously there to mark the end of the safe area. Nott motioned for Scorpius and Priscilla to stay there and walked over the respected line as though it wasn't there at all. He pulled out his wand as he navigated through a gap in the vine walls, calling when he was clear " _REF ON FIELD!"_ Scorpius started a bit when the small crowd cheered in response.

"Finally!" The girl cried back, recognizing Thomas Nott by his voice alone. "What took you so long?"

"Focus Isabelle!" The boy cried even as he gave Nott a cursory nod, then stepped aside and shot a combination of spells up at her.

The four spells were the same type but, Scorpius was shocked to see, they traveled toward their targets with a small variation of speed and each with greater power than before. The first shot had obviously been aimed at the platform again, the second over her head, and the last two for the girl herself- but as they flew through the air the last shots overtook the first and 'Isabelle', who had already created a shield, didn't have time to change it into another position.

She only avoided the hits by jumping off the platform completely, dropping out of sight.

"Clear!" Nott called, just before she pulled her shoulders over a low wall and started shooting her ice spells again. Now her every shot was on target and meant to either hit her opponent or 'destroy' his cover.

The change in their skill made it apparent to Priscilla and Scorpius that the two had only been warming up until this point, and apparently everyone had been waiting for Nott to arrive if the amped energy of the spectators was anything to go by. They pair now faced each other with a seriousness that had been lacking in their previous exchanges, with a determination to succeed that Scorpius had often seen on the Quidditch Pitch.

This had gone from a competitive pastime to honestly fighting in a way that charged the air. His eyes widened as he saw one of Isabelle's ice spells trail and curve in an unexpected way, about to hit the boy on the left side only to be blocked at the last moment by a shield spell from off the field.

Nott lowered his wand and canceled the protection spell he'd cast, calling "Point, off hand!" before casting a petrifying spell on the limb in question.

"Dammit Rupert," Isabelle complained even as the boy dutifully played the part of 'injured'. "Why can't you be left handed?"

Rupert tested the mobility of the shoulder connected to his immobilized limb, then resumed their fight without responding.

Priscilla's eyebrows rose at the name, and her eyes narrowed with rekindled interest "Rupert?"

"Know him?" Scorpius asked, feeling like the name was familiar to him as well.

"Rupert was the Prefect that represented Hufflepuff at the Start-of-Term Feast," she answered in a murmur, her eyes still trailing him. There was marked difference between Rupert's countenance now and any other time she'd seen him. He moved about the field with a confidence and presence that was distinctly lacking in the hallways of Hogwarts. Even with the numbed arm, Rupert's superior skill started to show as he sent an astonishing variety of spells at his opponent. Hexes and jinxes kept Isabelle low behind cover, while charms and _reducto_ spells began rendering her potential avenues for escape and cover useless. His spells continued to press Isabelle to jump to higher and higher platforms, his plan becoming apparent as he started using his spells to isolate her platform from all the others.

"Oh bloody h-" she swore just before he destroyed her footing for the last time and sent her into a thirty-foot freefall. Disoriented as she tumbled, Isabelle was unable to defend herself from the flurry of spells Rupert fired, all perfectly timed to hit the moving target.

Nott again blocked all of the spells with shields, calling "Dead points" as Isabelle quickly cast _Arresto Momentum_ to slow her own fall. Half the crowd cheered while the rest groaned and handed over their lost wagers, chocolate frog cards exchanging hands before most of them dispersed from the spectacle.

The three combatants gathered and talked as they made their way out of the arena, their conversation carrying easily through crisp air. Rupert grinned and patted Nott on the back "Nice work on the shields. You've really improved."

To his friends' shock he smiled at the compliment. "I've been practicing. Good footwork."

"Thanks. I did work up a sweat, didn't I?" His brown hair was damp enough to look black, and the sweat was making the stubble of his half-grown goatee a bit itchy.

"I could smell the testosterone from here," Isabelle teased as she cleared the tunnel into the advanced arena, blowing snowflakes off herself with a simple spell and then reaching up to retighten her braid.

"Hah." Rupert snorted, about to say something more when his eyes landed on Priscilla and Scorpius after he too made it out of the arena- the vine passage was narrow and a lot harder to get through than Nott had made it look, especially for someone of his larger frame. Standing in the direct sunlight it was now possible to see the faded yellow lining on his and Isabelle's Hufflepuff dueling robes. "Back to work, you lot! You're wastin sunlight!"

At his bark of command the remaining spectators jumped to attention and rushed off. Scorpius and Priscilla glanced at each other briefly and stayed where they were.

The Hufflepuff just looked at the two new Slytherins for a few more moments, then said "Friends of yours?"

"Yup." Nott agreed, popping the 'p'.

"And they're here to…?"

"Duel."

Isabelle snorted at his cryptic responses. "But of course. Do they know they have to pass the course first?"

"I was going to allow our Sergeant the honor of explaining that one."

"And I," Rupert sighed, running a hand down the side of his face. The action smeared the dirt on his hand into the sweat on his cheek. "Have told you a million times to stop calling me that."

"I know."

Scorpius looked at Nott in surprise. It was, quite frankly, strange to see him this relaxed around anyone, let alone someone outside of Slytherin.

"Good to see you here." Rupert's greeting startled Scorpius with its existence, confidence, and sincerity, as he had turned from his conversation with his friends to the newcomers without preamble. "I'm Rupert, DDC council president. This is Isabelle, our vice, and of course you know Nott, our junior council member."

"You're on the council?" Priscilla asked in surprise, looking at her younger friend.

"Earned it just a few weeks ago." Nott said with obvious pride and satisfaction at having impressed her.

"He may be a fourth year, but his petrifying spells are top quality. Um, speaking of…?" Rupert bounced his left shoulder a few times.

"Oh right- sorry." he quickly mumbled the countercurse to unlock the limb he'd immobilized for half of the duel. As soon as that was done the councilmembers walked as a group toward the target field.

After a moment the two Slytherins followed.

Scorpius looked between them and asked "Aren't you going to ask for our names?"

"Don't need to." Rupert stretched his arm as they walked to get the blood flowing again. "Nott talks about you all the time- you're Scorpius, yeah? Malfoy? I'd shake hands, but-"

Malfoy tensed for an insult.

"-I don't want to get you dirty, mate." He said with a self deprecating smile as he held up the sweaty and dirty palm in question. There was too much sincerity and honest amusement in the words to suspect another motive.

Just in case though… "I don't mind." Scorpius assured and held out his hand, a challenge against any prejudice held toward his Pureblood name.

Rupert just nodded lightly and took it without hesitation, his grip firm and calloused as he shook the Slytherin's hand. "Good to meet'cha."

"...Likewise," Scorpius muttered, waiting for his attention to shift to Priscilla before wiping the sweaty dirt from his hand. Isabelle made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

Rupert seemed to have missed Scorpius's reaction as he gave Priscilla a bow that might have been mocking if his entire demeanor weren't so very serious throughout this exchange. "And you're Priscilla Parkinson. You Represented your entire House earlier this year like I did, yeah?"

"That's correct."

"Can't say I was surprised to see you take the stage," he smiled, like the experience had connected them in some way. "Last time I saw you step up was during your, ah shall we say, _prideful_ declaration in your first year?"

Priscilla froze for a moment, then realized that as a Sixth Year student there was a good chance that he'd been there during her defining moment when she'd challenged anyone opposed to her Slytherin heritage to stand before her. And subsequently persecuted all who had. The Fifth Year may have widened the rift between Slytherin and the other Houses when she retaliated, but she was definitely provoked and not the least bit remorseful. Rupert would have been a Second Year at the time, but for the life of her she couldn't remember him specifically among the many eyes that had watched her. "I don't particularly care what you call it." She looked at the hand and frowned. "And I decline your offer for contact."

Isabelle frowned at the tone and took half a step forward to protest at her defensive barb, but Rupert- without having to glance her way- waved her down and smiled. "It was just an offer. So," he gestured for them to follow him as he walked on, "You two are interested in DDC?"

"That's the second time you've said that," Priscilla mumbled as she walked between Rupert and Nott. "I understand 'Dumbledore's Dueling Club' is a mouth full, but I was under the impression you were called 'dueling club'."

"Only people _outside_ DDC call us 'dueling club'," Isabelle grinned, using finger quotes. "Sorta like how Sergeant Rupert is the only one who calls himself 'the president' and us his 'vice presidents'."

"To everyone else, we're Lieu-tenants." Nott finished, then waited for Isabelle to join in before saying in obviously practiced unison "And he's our Sergeant."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are, Sarge." Isabelle grinned, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Especially with your new cut."

While Rupert's hairstyle wasn't quite a buzz cut, it was considerably shorter than fashion dictated. It looked good on him though and made his half-grown stubble look less out of place. He still ran a hand through it self consciously as he protested with more force. "No, _I'm not._ "

"Actually that's me." Thomas Nott smiled as he used the play on his name, a joke that he would punch anyone else out for teasing. "Lieutenant Nott reporting for duty, Sergeant!"

"Lieutenant Izzy present as well, Sarge!" The two saluted him in an exaggerated and jokingly serious manner.

Rupert glared at them both, glanced at Priscilla and Scorpius with a slightly hopeless expression, then grumbled "Drop and give me forty."

Without missing a beat both Lieutenants stopped dead and fell forward straight into pushups, calling in unison "One! Two! Three! Four!…"

Priscilla's jaw dropped at the sight, but nobody saw it as Scorpius was too busy trying to smother his own amused reaction and Rupert was panicking "What- no! No that wasn't actually- _get up_ you morons!"

"Is that an order, Sarge?" Isabelle asked as Nott counted in a more subdued voice "...seven, eight, nine…"

"Yes, it is." Rupert sighed with a note of defeat. "Just get up."

"Thank you Sarge." She said and got up. Nott however kept going for a few more seconds, still counting aloud to a pace that showed how easy forty pushups would be for him. He had worked hard on his physique. It took a not- _too-_ light kick on his side from Isabelle to get him up, accusing "Show off."

"Anyways…" The 'Sergeant' said and ran a hand down his face again as Nott got to his feet, the action smearing dirt onto the other cheek this time. "If you're interested in joining DDC activities from time to time, we need to judge you on the targets and obstacle course before we let you practice duel."

"Why?" Priscilla asked in obvious disapproval of the idea. She didn't like revealing her skills to a bunch of spectators _before_ she fought them, and now that she was closer to the obstacle course she was far less impressed by it. It looked far too physically demanding for a _magic_ dueling club. "I see no necessity in- _that._ "

She was ignored as the three councilmembers refocused on each other again. Rupert glanced at his Lieutenants. "I'll vet their spells; you two don't have to stay for that. I have a feeling it'll take a while."

"Check Priscilla's spells first," Nott volunteered, a gleam in his eye. "She'll take a while, so I'll let Scorpius practice the time trial. "

Isabelle raised a hand. "I'll supervise the targets, then. That good?"

The three spoke with barely a second pause between, nodded once, then turned to do the agreed actions. Isabelle left, Rupert motioned Priscilla to the targets with a sweep of his hand, and Nott threw his arm around Scorpius and lead him off as well.

Priscilla raised a thin eyebrow at the unexpected gentleman action, but walked toward the range. She supposed this 'sergeant' had his reasons.

A bit put off by the sudden and swift dispersal of tasks without his input, Scorpius looked at Nott from the corner of his eye as he was frog-marched to the obstacle course. "And what are we going to be doing exactly?"

"Oh," His grin widened to almost sadistic, and Scorpius got an inkling that his friend was thinking back to the many laughing comments he'd given about dueling club. "Just having some fun."

* * *

As Zoethia Malam walked through Hogwarts, she held her head high. She kept a firm grip on her bag, her gaze straight even as a strand of onyx black hair fell in her eyes- and she didn't flinch when an eraser hit her. Or a gobstone. She winced at the quill, but only because of the point.

She hadn't run into many people so far, but it seemed her assailants were mostly girls; tall girls, short short, pretty girls… um… not-so-pretty girls too. Anyone who was against the idea of Jonovan Orion being in a relationship, anyone who thought the age gap was inappropriate, and anyone who was still after her about that squid thing from earlier.

All in all, Zoey thought as she put that strand of hair back behind her ear, throwing random projectiles was a rather juvenile response. And she had a personal point of reference.

She'd suffered the exact same assaults in primary school, after all. Just growing up an orphan was enough ammunition for other kids to tease her with. As a witch with only moderate control, her bursts of magic had pegged her as a weirdo. But her mom had drilled into Zoey to never, _ever_ use magic before she was taught, so she couldn't do anything but learn that any kind of retaliation just fueled the proverbial fire of their assaults. Combined, those things had given bullies a scapegoat to make themselves look tough.

Unsurprisingly, Zoey hadn't liked her classmates. There was a reason that she and Jon were so close; not only was he practically her brother, he'd been practically her only friend. She spent more time at home than anywhere else, any thirst for adventure sated with book after book on fantasy that was quietly read in the corner, dreaming of the day that the magical school her mom had told her about would send its letter. That day would have the double relief of a new school, and the long-awaited reveal to her family about what she was.

Not that she didn't enjoy her old life. The day at home had been a relief, a splash of sanity after the craziness that had happened at St. Mungo's. Jon couldn't have given her a better present than a handcooked meal, a night spent half on their couch and half in her own bed, to wake slowly and cook Aunt Mary's home recipe for pancakes.

...even if he'd been strangely missing. She wasn't worried; she knew he'd come pick her up. Nonetheless, Zoey had firmly exploited the day of returned technology, watching a marathon of her favorite shows and enjoying 'muggle' foods, like good old fashioned pizza. Mmm. And soda. MMMMM. Pumpkin juice couldn't even compete.

It was almost noon when Jon made it back, giving her an almost-heart attack as she worried it was her Aunt and Uncle. After ringing the doorbell without answer he had been forced to get the key from the bushes and open the door, walking inside to a seemingly empty house. Glancing around, Jon immediately went to the closet in the office and moved aside their old school project posters.

Zoey was curled in a small corner, holding her mom's wand and muttering like she was trying to hypnotize herself. "I'm not here- I am air, aaair…" There was a plate of pancakes in her lap.

"You're very obviously here."

She started in surprise and knocked her skull on the shelf above her. "Ow- Jon? Why didn't you tell me it was you?" Zoey complained as she rubbed her head and slid out of her old hide-and-seek spot, careful to keep the plate from tipping.

"And miss your attempt at invisibility?" he teased even as he gave her a hand up, claiming the pancakes she'd promised and saved as his reward for the previous night.

"Like this is so impressive," she said and looked down at herself. She was only mildly transparent, like she'd been covered in a thin layer of clear plastic. Even as she watched though it thinned until nonexistence and she sighed as she put the wand back in it's case. She went into the pantry and got Jon the jam and honey for his belated breakfast, which he ate off the kitchen island.

He'd been bothered by something even as he asked about her day and if she'd enjoyed herself, even as he inhaled the food with the fervor of a starving man. Then he'd grilled her on how Hogwarts was, if she enjoyed her classes and how many friends she had and generally acted like the overprotective, paranoid guardian she knew and loved.

Zoey told him how she liked Ravenclaw; her Housemates were nerdy and smart, overcompetitive about grades in her opinion but kind and far more dynamic than the rest of the school. She liked that they had adopted her socks only rule; one of them had even researched and grown the 'best-smelling flower with odor eliminating properties' to put by the shoe pile. The Eagle Knocker had become quite friendly after she'd shared the book of Sphinx puzzles. She suspected it gave her simpler riddles when it could tell she was in a rush to get through his door.

Hogwarts, as a place, was amazing. As annoying as it was to get unerringly lost in it its halls it was equally exhilarating for her to find old places. She loved exploring them thoroughly and, as a thank you to whatever twist of the school lead her there, always cleaned the place up a little bit.

She reasoned that if a stick could be semi-sentient, why on earth couldn't a century old building soaked in all kinds of magic feel gratitude? And at worst, she was clearing out the dustbunnies. That couldn't hurt.

Hogwarts, as a student body, was full of teenagers. Of course there were people she liked and got along with more than others, but it was hard to get close to them when her last four years of her life were a taboo subject. Really, Zoey reminded him, knowing that one revealing word could mean Ministry intervention, that it would put Rex in a bad position and him under undue stress was far from ideal for forming deep friendships. But she was doing good; she had Lysander, Scorpius, Rose, Albus, Lily, Hugo… she was doing good, all things considered.

Of course there were also people in Hogwarts she wasn't keen on getting along with. An image of Leena's face had flashed through her mind, but she hadn't told Jon about that brief altercation.

But really, Zoey thought as she picked quill feathers out of her hair, she'd have expected so much more out of teenagers. Where was the water-over-the-doorway trick, the dirty desk, the trashed room? Mundane projectiles she could easily deal with. Unless they got bruise worthy. That would be… hard to explain. Frowning slightly as she thought about it, that was likely to happen when her assailants became brave enough to cast that _leviosa_ spell. Or… even stronger stuff.

She should probably ask Scorpius for more focus on shield spells their next tutoring session, Zoey decided as she entered the Great Hall for dinner, and for now she'd wear the anti-jinx stuff she'd gotten from _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ on her Hogsmeade trip with Albus.

Her entrance into the largest room in Hogwarts was accompanied by a distinct drop in volume, which only increased as she walked the short distance to her usual spot at Ravenclaw table. While people usually had to yell to hear each other over the roar of the populated room, students were now whispering soft enough enough to resemble the persistent buzz of swarming bugs.

As Zoey sat down she couldn't make out a single word from any direction, looking around with her first trace of true worry. Whenever her gaze went somewhere people immediately silenced, but only long enough for her focus to move on. It gave her the hair-raising sensation of people always talking behind her back, and she nudged Lysander nervously. "Um, Sandy?"

"Not my name." The Ravenclaw Prefect glanced up from the book he was reading in his usual seat.

"Sandy, seriously- why's everyone staring at me? I know I'm not imagining it… Is there something stuck in my teeth, or stuck to my back?" she reached between her shoulderblades as she thought of the old joke of sticking a 'kick me' sign there with a piece of tape. She didn't feel anything, but she craned her neck over her shoulder to check just in case.

He didn't even need to look up, just flipped the page. "Zoey, people are always staring at you."

Her brow creased in confusion. Sure she got a lot more casual glances than the average person, but that was mostly because of her vibrant hair colors. And right now, it was black. Innocuous enough… right? Glancing around again, her gaze fell on the papers that had been pulled out of bags and books and were now being whispered over, the readers looking between the _Scandals_ and its main topic.

"Did… does _everyone_ have one?" she whispered to herself, in shock over the sheer volume of them. There were at least a dozen articles at every table.

"The _Scandals_? Pretty much. The author will reprint any paper for whoever wants one, no matter if it's from last week or last year." Lysander reported mildly. "It's a very popular paper."

"Is that so…" She hadn't even heard of it until today, when Jon had finally finished his random interrogation to 'warn her' and pulled a crinkled and obviously abused copy from his pocket.

Smoothing that _Scandals_ out with limited success, Zoey had read the student published newspaper for the first time. At least until she grasped its topic. Then she froze, looked up at Jon, looked down at the paper again and said "Ew."

Jon blinked in surprise, but it seemed she wasn't finished.

"Ew. EW. No, no nonono- no, that is not-" she glanced at Jon then looked away again, the _idea_ of being romantic with her cousin freaking her out to the point of nausea. "Nope. Gross. Never. Ever. Ew. That- gross. Ugh. You're _ancient._ "

"Excuse you?"

"And related, and- you're _Jon,_ and- ick. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never in a million years…"

Needless to say that the conversation had pretty much paused while she worked the 'ick' factor out of her system. Jon decided not to be insulted, as it was the appropriate response to accusations of incest. Nonetheless he had drawn her back to the topic at hand. "Zo, this is a bit worse than 'gross'. The school's going to be in an uproar, McGonagall will have a cow, and don't even get me started on Rex…"

"He'll probably blame us for his next round of hair loss again," Zoey mumbled as she opened a new can of soda, having sufficiently calmed down.

"Zoey." He looked at her in his sobering manner that was more than a bit threatening, waiting for her to give the topic her full attention. He pointed to the wrinkled picture, demanding "Don't you keep this in your journal?"

"Well, yeah. But-"

"That is _not_ allowable," Jon growled, his eyes flashing green. "You do not mess with a girl and her privacy."

Seeing the change of his eye color and immediately recognizing it for what it was Zoey jumped to her feet, taking his hands. She kept a grip on one and put the other on her head, feeling the extra magic summoned by his emotions flow into her. It had the tang of rust to it as she absently noted the ends of her hair turn vibrant red.

Zoey took deep breaths, letting his energy calm within her before returning it to him through his hand and giving it a soft squeeze as he did.

Jon grudgingly joined in the exercise and closed his eyes, neither of them moving from their position or breaking the flow of magic.

"I lost my journal a few days ago." Zoey told him, still focusing on her breathing.

Cracking one eye into a slit he looked down at her. "So?"

"So," Zoey repeated teasingly, "it's my fault that it was lying around in the first place. You can't blame someone for picking it up."

"I most certainly can."

Unlike her, Jon was far from teasing. Biting her lip, Zoey shook her head and released his hand, feeling that his magic was stable now. It had calmed from rust to copper pretty quick, his control really was improving. "It's my fault; I shouldn't have even taken it to school when we're not supposed to let them know we're family. And- I lost it, so… doubly my bad. I'm always losing things." she fingered the charms on her silver bracelet. "You've told me that before, right?"

Jon frowned and folded his arms. He may critique from time to time, but her error didn't make the article any less invasive. He took a deep breath for a forceful statement but then paused, his fingers twitching slowly with his thoughts. "Do you want to go back to Hogwarts?"

"What?" she jerked her head back, "Of course I-"

"Do you?" He cut her off, having already known what her knee-jerk response would be. "You're taking classes below your school level, you've complained who knows how many times about your tutoring, you just admitted that you were having trouble connecting because of our circumstances, and now- this." he had waved a hand over the crumpled paper in summary.

"Yes. I do."

"Don't say that to be stubborn, I want you to be sure. Actually take a moment to think about this-"

"Jonovan," Zoey used his full name to get his attention. "I don't need to think about this. Ever since Zelina disappeared- and was hospitalized, Hogwarts has been all I dreamt about. I wanted to learn magic like her, I wanted to be in the same place she stood, I wanted to master the magic that kept showing up in my life. And I put that on hold. For four years."

For you.

The two words hovered unspoken between them, one heartbeat stretching into two. Then four. And only when Jon dropped his gaze did she finish "So yes Jon. I am sure."

The silence had stretched a bit longer, then Jon nodded. He put a hand on her head, the color changing from the angry red to a determined black. "Well then- if you're going to stay in Hogwarts I guess you'll need to learn what they're like. Face them yourself. And they need to know you too."

His declaration had ended the subject, and Zoey told him to "Wait one more second" while she finished packing. Running up to her room she paused, leaning back on her door.

Bullies. Okay, not a problem; she could deal with them. Totally. It would take an idiot or a hardcore gossip to believe something as bogus as that article, and she wouldn't want to be friends with people like that anyways.

Gathering herself, Zoey put her bag on her bed and want into her closet, pulling out her old things until she found the mickey mouse headband she'd been wearing in that photo. Fingering the round ears, she sighed and put it in the trash. She never wanted to see it again, the memory was thoroughly ruined now. Walking back to her bag she picked it up, then reached inside and pulled Seabert out.

The old toy was soft and smiling at her even as she put him back in the pile with the rest of her collection. She didn't want him ruined next.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Zoey had looked in her mirror and chased the somber expression off her face with a smile. She could handle a few bullies.

But half the student body was in the Great Hall now, and all of them were focused on her. Talking about her. Assuming things about her. A combined army of prejudice and malicious thoughts.

Sitting there Zoey realized that all of Hogwarts could see her. And kept seeing her, unblinkingly, until it dawned her that they were waiting for her to do something. For her to show shock at the article, to laugh it off or cry or flee in embarrassment- _something._ Three hundred eyeballs were staring at her for the sole purpose of seeing her put on a show and guessing what it would mean.

Shouldn't they have something better to do? Zoey bit her lip and gripped the edge of her bench, wanting nothing more than to walk out of the very room she'd just entered. She'd lost her appetite.

But what would that mean to _them_? Would they all assume that it meant she and Jon were- ew, ick, Zoey couldn't even think it. She didn't want _them_ to think it either, but just standing up and screaming it to everyone would hardly be helpful. They'd probably laugh at her.

She felt like a zoo animal under observation. Closing her eyes against the pressure, Zoey wished for something, _anything_ to end the pressure of this moment.

The moment stretched on, and next thirty minutes were the longest of her life. Zoey could barely lift her gaze from her empty plate. She didn't even try to talk to Lysander or anyone else. She pulled out a study sheet and tried to work on it, but she was too tense to use her quill properly.

When Lysander finally finished his food Zoey left the Great Hall at the same time, hoping that would look normal enough to her sudden spectating critiques.

So _many_ people, Zoey dry swallowed. She'd never faced such a widespread rumor. As soon as she got the chance she turned down an empty hallway and got herself lost in the mazing turns of Hogwarts, running until the racing of her heart was physical and not mental. Slowing down and pushing her hair out of her eyes Zoey leaned her back against a wall, realizing that this was going to be harder than she thought.

* * *

 _Nobody's sure of themself right now. I realized the last few chapters were getting very mopey, so I put a bit more excitement in this chapter. How do ya'll like DDC? I know I had Neville quoting Snape, but it fits; and I think he would eventually admit that if nothing else, Snape showed him how to be strict on students._

 _And yes, Zoey does honestly think that she lost her joural. She had no idea that Rose was in her room. Next chapter will not be fun for Zoey, so I warn you now._

 _as always, thanks you so much for reading and lemme know your thoughts!_

 _E_


	23. Ch 23 Middlegame

**Ch 23- Middlegame**

 _Middlegame: Chess term referring to the part of a match after both teams have set up their strategies, but before important officers have been lost by either side._

* * *

Scorpius had _thought_ he was sore that Sunday morning. Now it was sunset. And Scorpius had redefined his definition of the word. Flying a broom for hours on end was tough because it required core muscles for balance. Running the obstacle course, which Scorpius had learned the club called a 'gauntlet', was different. Sprinting on the ground required muscles he never used on a broom, and the obstacles like climbing, crawling and dodging required passing collisions even if they were done right. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy had never been more sore in his life.

As he trudged back to the castle after the club ended, his every muscle groaned in an offkey chorus of aching pain. He had easily twice as many bruises as he'd woken up with and was now certain that Nott had pushed him into the gauntlet for vengeance.

Now that he'd been there, though, he couldn't fault his friend. Dueling Cl- DDC was a lot better than he'd ever imagined. And the course, painful though it was, had been invigorating. Priscilla had gone inside ages ago, Nott a few hours after that for the start of dinner, but Scorpius had kept going through the challenge again and again until Rupert closed the club just before it got dark. Even after all that Scorpius's best time was barely halfway up the leaderboard, but Rupert assured him that was still very good for a first day and chalked up his success to his quidditch practices.

It made Scorpius realize that the same might benefit vice versa. DDC would help him build his endurance for sure, and probably some reflex skills, which would definitely show on the quidditch pitch. As far as he was concerned, dueling club had just gained a new member... on the days he actually time to attend. Between Slytherin Quidditch and tutoring Malam, Scorpius didn't have many days off.

The freezing rain that came with the start of winter fell in a light sprinkling, a few snowflakes dancing on the wind. The snow on the ground had was still too light to truly cushion footfalls, but it had been enough turn walkways and the obstacle course into a freezing slush. As they fell, slipped, and walked through it that freezing 'slush' they were all covered in started melting into freezing mud that clung to their clothes. Scorpius groaned internally as he remembered the long walk to get to his common room and a decent shower. Rupert saw him separating from the group and called "Oi, whaddya think you're doing?"

Stopping and looking over his shoulder Scorpius simply raised an eyebrow, since what 'he was doing' was plainly visible to the naked eye.

"Ya plannin to freeze, mate?" Rupert shook his head in amusement. "We get access to the quidditch locker rooms, and more importantly their showers, on days like this."

"Day's 'like this'?" Scorpius repeated curiously but eagerly took the advice. He'd much rather get clean immediately instead of walking cold and damp through the dungeons to his Common Room. The dungeons were cold and damp to start with.

"You know, foul weathers. Cold. Wet. Hot…" Rupert grinned, "Pretty much any day we need a decent shower before approaching a cute girl."

Well that was a random descriptor. Scorpius was saved from responding as Isabelle cried out in indignation at Rupert's comment, who quickly added "Or boy- approaching a cute girl _or_ boy."

"And _I'm_ not a cute girl?" Isabelle challenged, a few of her female friends backing her up.

"You smell as bad as I do."

The surrounding club members replied in unison "No she doesn't."

Scorpius huffed mildly in amusement, beginning to understand that he'd walked into a very strange subculture of Hogwarts. They were so serious in training, but they kept jeering and calling out to each other even in the locker room. Quidditch locker rooms were under the stadium and technically there were two of them, one for each of the teams after a game, but everyone poured into the closer one without second thought so Scorpius followed suit.

Being a room for quidditch teams Scorpius had of course been there before. Since he was finally an official part of the Slytherin Team he finally had his own locker this year. He pulled out a green towel and spare robes, things he always left in there. He surprised to see that the entire dueling club went the same locker for the same supplies. Curious, he walked up to Rupert as he watched towel after towel appear out of the obviously magical storage. "I didn't even know that was here."

"Enlargement charm. Put it there my third year." Rupert grinned with pride and pulled out his traditional school uniform. They were different from the dueling attire he'd been wearing all day. In addition to more Hufflepuff yellow decorations, his dueling robe was more form fitted with soft cushioning charms on the joints, a light anti-jinx property to it, and quite a few more scorch marks.

Scorpius looked down at the robe he was wearing and could see how it could soon become just as damaged and stained. He doubted even magic would get all this mud out. "What's it take to get one of those?" he inquired as they stepped into the boy's shower side.

The Sergeant blinked with surprise, but smiled. "Official membership. Which, before you ask, takes a current member's recommendation as well as the council's stamp of approval."

"Oh." he frowned, waiting for a moment but growing impatient when it seemed that he wouldn't be getting the answer he wanted. " _Do_ I have your stamp of approval?"

"You're not a danger to yourself out there and Nott thinks highly of ya, so sure. Priscilla's probably good to go too, though I'd have to check with Izzy. Minimum attendance of twice a week, one weekday and one weekend. No exceptions."

"Got it." Scorpius nodded, stepping under the shower to get clean. The quidditch showers were notably rudimentary, nowhere near as elaborate as the Prefect baths were rumored to be. Unlike the dorm showers these were separated by curtains instead of walls and there was only one pressure setting- high. Nonetheless it felt heavenly as the warm water worked wonders on his many bruises, which were already raised and colorful against his pale complexion.

After scrubbing the mud from his arms and hair he stepped out, not one for long showers. A few minutes of waiting made him realize that he was one of the few, so he called out "Hey Sarge, what about people who aren't good with spells?"

It was only after he groaned " _Not you too…"_ that Scorpius realized he'd just used Rupert's club nickname. He couldn't help it; as a Malfoy he found it rather hard to show respect to anyone he called 'Rupert'.

He went on "I can tell that you're all good with wandwork, and so were Priscilla and I. What's your policy on people who…" he paused to find a tactful way to say this "... aren't?"

"We take em too. You shoulda seen Izzy her first year; barely knew which end of her wand was the front." There was a note of pride in his voice, which was odd to Scorpius. No Slytherin would ever admit such a failing to anyone, certainly not to someone they barely knew. Vaguely remembering that Hufflepuffs were 'unafraid of toil', he wondered if they considered building a skillset more impressive than starting with a natural talent.

Scorpius shrugged, not caring either way about Isabelle and her apparent learning curve. "I'm talking about abysmally terrible magic skills. As in, this person can't even cast _vermillious_ sparks properly."

"… forgive me for saying this," Rupert started slowly, but didn't sound particularly regretful. If anything his voice held a cautious query in it, one that Scorpius failed to notice. "But you don't seem the type to associate with someone of such 'low caliber'."

"I don't." He immediately assured, a knee-jerk reaction that somehow left a bad taste in his mouth after he said it. "But I'm in charge of tutoring the transfer's practical skills. I was thinking that she could use some real-life practice-"

The curtain opened and the Sergeant popped his head out to look at Scorpius. "You mean Zoey Malam?"

He sighed and made a mental note that Rupert insisted on face-to-face interactions. "Yeah. Do you know her?" Scorpius was a bit surprised that the Hufflepuff knew her name. Usually if he'd said 'Malam' he was met with incomprehension until he identified her as the school's only transfer student.

"Wait one sec-" Rupert ran off, dripping water as he went with suds still in his hair, then came back with a copy of the _Scandals_ article and a towel around his waist. "Do you know if she's seen this yet?"

He all but glared at the publication. "No."

"No she hasn't or no-"

"I don't know." Scorpius clipped out, his mood worsening. Was this going to be the norm from now on? One word about Zoey and everyone started quoting that thing?

"Two of my housemates, Lily and Hugo, they're really worried about her. They asked all of us to get her a warning that this exists but- well- no one has. When's your next session with the transfer?"

"Tuesday afternoon." he said offhandedly. It's not like the tutoring was a secret or anything but it wasn't like they'd advertised the fact. He was more curious why a Potter _and_ a Weasley cared that much about Malam; now that he thought about it, if he also counted Rose, Albus and Lysander she was tied up with a lot of the Legacy brats.

His eyes narrowed a touch. That probably wasn't a good thing; but, it was a consideration for another time. "If you don't believe it why are you carrying around one of those?"

Rupert shrugged. "We all figured it would be best to just let her see the article for herself. Could you give this to her tomorrow, just in case she hasn't yet?"

Tilting his head at it for a moment, Scorpius figured how to turn this to his advantage. "If I do, will you let her sit in on one of your practices? Give her some pointers?"

He looked surprised at the question, but cheerfully agreed with a wide smile. "Sure! I'd be glad to. She's welcome anytime."

"Really?" Scorpius asked with tangible doubt. Whether or not Rupert believed the article about Malam, he'd certainly believe that the school wouldn't look kindly at anyone who supported her.

"Really. DDC is open for anybody that works hard." He paused, and looked Scorpius in the eye. It was somehow serious even with conditioner suds in his hair. " _Does_ she work hard?"

Scorpius thought back on his many sessions with the girl. The way she followed his critiques to the letter, the way she bit her lip in concentration, even the annoying questions which only meant she was interested in knowing more. "Malam is forgetful and curious to the point of distraction," he eventually decided, "but she seriously tries. She puts in so much effort it's shocking that she hasn't improved yet."

Rupert stared at him for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. "And Nott said you didn't give compliments."

"That wasn't-"

"She's welcome here." Rupert repeated with a grin, his voice full of authority. "DDC could be a good place for her. And you are now rosy-clean enough to approach cute girls, so get to bed; you worked hard today."

Deciding that arguing wouldn't do him much good, Scorpius put the article in his bag and finished getting dressed. After subtly smelling himself to make sure he didn't actually smell like roses, because Malfoys were not 'floral', he walked out of the lockers and shivering in the crisp air. It felt even colder after being in the steam-warmed locker, but it was still better than being in mud-soaked robes. He walked up to the castle, barely making it in time for a bite of dinner before the Great Hall closed.

Nott had saved him a plate, and mentioned in passing that Zoethia Malam had already come in and then left the Great Hall. Scorpius released a breath of tension, glad that she was back and apparently unhurt for her absence. Then paused in confusion, because he never sighed with relief. Malfoys did not worry about problems, they fixed them.

The news of the _Scandals_ article had leaked to the Slytherin table, and Malfoy was surprised to hear that most of the comments were in favor of Zoey. As the prime targets for _Scandal_ pieces Slytherins were painfully aware of the paper's tendency to stretch the truth for sensationalism. The presiding opinion of the green-and-silver House was that this story was likely a punishment piece for Malam vouching in their favor on Halloween. While his Housemates may not be compelled to act in her defense, Scorpius finished his meal oddly comforted to know they were sympathetic rather than antagonistic towards Wainbata.

Safe in the knowledge that his opinion was well in line with that the table, Scorpius stood and felt his leg muscles clench in protest. The trip through the dungeons was long and his feet were literally dragging by the time he made it to his dorm, any higher reasoning drowned out by his complaining bruises and a need for sleep. He ended up only staying awake long enough to polish his chess set.

" _Humpf,"_ the black king sat back on his throne approvingly. " _So you didn't forget."_

"Malfoys keep their word," he mumbled back before setting the king to stand opposite his white counterpart on his nightstand. Scorpius barely had a moment to revel at the full day he'd had before stretching out for a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

On Monday, the school had a lot to talk about. Zoey Malam was back after her unexplained absence, and eyes trailed her wherever she went. The sensation crawled over her skin like a bad itch. Her lower-grade classes she once hated were now a relief, as it seemed most of the first and second years had little interest in the gossip and therefore their opinion of Zoey was unchanged. It bothered her more in the classes with people her age, the Third and Fourth Years, because they were the ones who stared. Twisted in their seats while Professors focused on the blackboards.

They weren't the ones that assaulted her in hallways, though. No, that honor was reserved for the students Zoey hadn't met, and she therefore assumed were older than her. She supposed it was the anonymity- them only knowing the bad rumors about Zoey, and Zoey knowing absolutely nothing about them.

There was a certain power in being unknown.

Zoey had suffered muggle bullying- bumped shoulders, whispers and giggles, glares and stares… now she was dealing with more than that. It had only been one day but she was already exhausted. Magic made a lot of things easier, and hazing was no exception.

Tuesday wasn't going much better than Monday had. So far, she'd pick up her bag after class to find the bottom torn open by a quick _diffindo_. Been doused with random streams of water by _auguamenti_ when she walked outside. Had her writing ink drying out mid-class and ruining her notes by- actually, Zoey wasn't sure which spell that had been. But it was on her running list of things to find out, along with the unique spellwork involved with this most recent event.

Really, Zoey thought as she coughed a mouthful of sand, how much did these people rely on magic? At least her muggle bullies had been smart enough to hide their actions around teachers. But as she stood in the hall just outside her Transfiguration Classroom, she knew there was no way for this to go unnoticed. Or at least, she thought so. Magic was capable of a lot.

Her assailants- whom Zoey didn't know and truely didn't care to- high fived one another and walked away, leaving her alone in the hallway. Zoey sighed. This was what she got for trying to be perfectly on time to her class. She hadn't wanted to talk to Hugo, or Lily. They'd shower her with well-wishes that would make her feel better, but as of yet nobody had openly supported her.

That had been intentional; over the last 48 hours Zoey had done her hardest to avoid them, because if past experience was any indicator, their two minutes of support could turn into them being targeted as well. Zoey didn't want that, so she'd come to class as late as possible so that class could prevent conversation.

And thus, she found herself here. Right outside the classroom, with her classmates and professor inside, but she may as well have been a million miles away with the silencing spell over the doorway. Nobody would be in the halls until the next bell, so Zoey was left standing there until a patrol came along and got her in trouble for 'skipping' class.

When Zoey considered herself stuck she meant literally _stuck._ Her legs wouldn't move- she assumed it was some version of an immobulus spell- and above her was the top half of a giant hourglass, pouring a continuous stream of fine sand over her head and down her shirt.

… this was going to get old real quick. She was practically standing in a desert by now. With a sigh Zoey lifted an arm to divert her sandy shower to the side at least, but knew she wouldn't be able to do that for a whole hour. Assuming that a giant hourglass was still only an hour. There were two-minute hourglasses used to time things like brushing teeth or pictionary. And some hourglasses that went longer than an hour, to like three or six. So really, she had no idea how long this would take, but she doubted it would be two minutes.

Zoey _really_ hoped she wouldn't have to stand here for three or six hours. Her arms would seriously cramp. Would her legs cramp? Or does the magically-immobilized-ness mean that her muscles were doing absolutely no work to keep her upright at the moment?

Deciding those were questions for someone who actually knew the answer she instead concentrated on how to get out of her predicament. Leaning forward, Zoey tried to tip herself over. Even if her legs were stuck at an awkward angle she expected to at least be able to drag herself off, but no such luck. No matter how she stretched her center of gravity her legs stayed square on the same tile.

"Was worth a shot." she sighed and looked up, unclipping her wandcase from her silver bracelet and letting it grow to a normal size as she considered her options. What would work here? Malfoy had been working on her defensive spells, but she supposed a Knockback Jinx might do something.

She slid the box open and took out the hazel wand, biting her lip in concentration as she swished her stick above her head and cried " _Flipendo!"_

The spell should have produced a loud 'bang' and at the very least pushed the falling sand back into the hourglass. Instead the wand vibrated in her hand and barely made a _psst_ of pressure, sounding like a mocking kid sticking their tongue out. Zoey scowled at it, knowing an insult when she heard one, and tried the spell again.

The desired _Bang!_ exploded around her but instead of damaging the hourglass her mother's wand recoiled in a violent kickback and slid back out of her grip. Its base struck her shoulder with bruising force, making her shout in surprised pain, and bounced behind her.

"Ow." Zoey mumbled passingly and massaged her left shoulder. Twisting around for a second time, she looked at the wand that lay innocently two feet behind her. "That hurt."

The wand, unsurprisingly, didn't respond to her accusations. It just lay there and quickly became buried in the still-falling sand. Actually if anything the sand had sped up for a few moments in the wake of her spell.

Zoey was flexible- she could touch her toes and was only a few inches away from doing splits- but she was fairly certain it was impossible to touch toes backwards. Unless that person was a professional athlete or something, but while she'd done gymnastics and martial arts growing up, olympian Zoey was _not._ Still, she groaned and twisted as much as possible to reach the dumb stick that had refused to help her and was now getting buried by the very spell it had failed to destroy. Karma.

If she just could have pivoted the balls of her feet she might as gotten the wand back. As it was though Zoey was unable to move her legs even a millimeter, and she gave up after a few moments of grabbing her own hip and twisting while arching her back behind her and reaching the other arm. She didn't get the wand. On the plus, she'd popped a crick out of her back. Zoey sighed and lifted a hand over her head to divert the sand again. Yup, this was already old.

A few minutes later she went to swap arms, but felt her hand tingle in a familiar manner when she lifted it off her thigh. Like the light needling of a limb that was almost asleep, but more akin to what she felt whenever she opened the door to Orion's rooms.

She stared at the hand for a moment, then Zoey brought a curved finger to her lips as she thought it over. ...really? Was it that simple? She manipulated the magic of standing enchantments all the time, but never had she tried it on anything living. Unless- she calmed Jon's magic sometimes. But that was because he wanted her to; she'd never tried countering a spell targeted on her specifically.

Back before Zelina had disappeared and had been a normal witch teaching her daughter the basics of magics, she'd made her daughter swear not to use any magic until it had been practiced and mastered in a safe environment. It was too dangerous. Zoey had tried to live by that, but she'd never heard of anyone who could manipulate magic in the direct manner that she could. There was nobody to teach her, so after some hesitation she decided that the only risk here would be to herself and she was willing to take that.

Putting a hand on each of her legs, Zoey took one last look around and made sure she was alone.

… of course she was alone. Shaking her head, Zoey did what she did best- take care of her own problems. Closing her eyes and trying to be very, very cautious about what she was dealing with, she reached her magic out for the enchantment that encased her.

She immediately felt a staggering difference between this and what she was used to. Most of the magics she had touched held the taste of dust and old layers to it. This magic was so fresh and hostile toward her interference that it startled her with an assault on all her senses the way a hot pepper makes eyes water and noses run. Surprised to find her vision fail, Zoey took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. This was just- just like vertigo, that thing when you get up too fast and black spots dance for a moment even though you can stand just fine.

In response she tried to slow her magical assessment, taking her time to get a much clearer sense of the spell. It hissed in distaste, but on further inspection it was infinitely weaker and smaller than she'd expected. It had no motivation, no determination to stand eternally as most of her previous opponents did. Smiling, Zoey decided not to be too fancy and just pushed the enchantment aside with a wave of her own magic. She kept pushing until she felt the hex harmlessly attach to the stone under her feet.

"Yes!" she cried in triumph as her legs gave way underneath her, depositing her harshly on the sandpile. They tingled with passing pain as she pulled them out of the sand they were under and dug around for her mother's wand, putting the stubborn thing back in its box. She ignored a slight nausea as she got to her feet. Now standing out from under the falling sand, she pointed at it and bragged "Take that, you sandy torture device!"  
"That was impressive," one of the portraits around her murmured, a number of the others whispering to eachother. They'd stood silent witness to the entire ordeal and her escape, which had taken the better part of half an hour. The one that spoke seemed to the only one with the courage to as the others shied away from her presence. It was the victorian woman who had once shown Zoey where to find the kitchens.

Zoey smiled and scratched at the sand that was caught in her clothes. "Thanks. Never done it that way before, but figured it would be better than waiting here for who knows how long until that hourglass ran out."

Spinning a shade parasol, the woman tilted her head. "Be careful with it. Many magics are dangerous."

"Beg to differ," Zoey brushed herself off. "All magic is dangerous in overflow quantities. A cleaning spell could kill protective bacteria, a cooking charm could start a fire… being around or wielding simpler magics doesn't make them not dangerous, it's the intent that- what is with this sand?" she interrupted herself with a scowl, finding that it was _everywhere_. She stopped her feet and shook out her hair in a strange jig, but it just never stopped!

The portrait chuckled, seeming to finally relax as she pointed down the hallway. "You should go wash up. Unless you wish to attend class in that state?"

Looking at her classroom door, Zoey admitted to herself that she really didn't. Hugo would no doubt interrogate her, she had missed the lecture time anyways and would probably only arrive for the practical practice in which she'd only embarrass herself, and there was no _way_ she'd be able to concentrate before shaking the sand from her clothes. "Where's the closest bathroom?"

"There is a lavatory over there," she gestured, "but I doubt you wish to use that one. I suggest going to the first floor."

"What wrong with this one? Is it flooded?" Zoey looked down the corridor curiously. She hadn't realized that OUT OF ORDER room was a bathroom, though she supposed it made sense.

The oil woman smiled. "Fortunately Myrtle has forgone that particular tendency, but people still don't use it. In recent memory this second floor girls bathroom is really only for people who wish to shed tears without interruption."

"Myrtle?"

"She used to be called Moaning Myrtle, poor girl who died in that bathroom nigh on eighty years now. She doesn't 'moan' as much as she once did, but the dear refuses to leave the place."

"Oh." Zoey said as she realized this Myrtle girl must be a ghost. She understood why it was abandoned; she wouldn't want to use a bathroom that a ghost liked to haunt. "Would you mind walking me to the next floor? I, um, tend to-"

"Get lost?" she finished, having heard that before.

"Frequently."

"C'mon then dearie. A lady does not refute a heartfelt request." She turned and walked smoothly into the next portrait to lead the way down the corridor.

Zoey stared at the bathroom for a moment longer before following her.

The sand of the hourglass continued to fall in the empty hall until it emptied, and then it and all the sand vanished just before the bell rang for the end of class. When the door opened to let a dejected Hugo Granger-Weasley and his classmates out, there was no sign that Zoey had ever been there at all.

* * *

"We may have a problem." Christine Creevy said as she caught up to Roxanne.

The red-haired witch was surprised at the hurried approach; Creevy usually tried not to associate with her or James in public places. Roxanne wasn't sure what that meant. "What do you mean, 'problem'?"

"Look what's behind me."

Glancing over at her shoulder, Roxanne almost stumbled in surprise. Rasputin was padding along a few feet behind them. Seeing their attention he flashed a toothy grin.

"It showed up with a note for me this morning," Creevy passed over the note, which had a few holes in it where it had been stuck onto Rasputin's quills. She explained even as Roxanne skimmed the parchment. "Orion requested I visit his office after the last class."

"Oh. That's, um, a problem." the Weasley had to gather her wits from the always unnerving sight of the Assistant's familiar. Then her brain caught up with her. "Wait- that's now!"

"Yes it is," the Ravenclaw responded in the manner of talking to a child. "I wasn't about to walk into his office uninformed."

Roxanne scoffed at the idea. If there was one thing Christine Creevy never was, it was 'uninformed'.

She went on without pausing "Can you think of any reason I should be worried?"

"Professors don't know who writes _Scandals._ "

"No, but I don't know the reason the rat is after me."

Rasputin growled in warning.

Roxanne opened her mouth and then closed it, remembering Rose's near-identical reaction in the library the day before. "It was following us yesterday," the Gryffindor admitted… "but left after Rose had said the name 'Creevy'..."

"Your cousin did _what?_ "

Oops. That last part wasn't supposed to be out loud. "Don't worry about it, Creevy, it's fine."

She didn't share the sentiment. At all. "This is not a light matter! What am I supposed to do here? He's not supposed to know you were even in the Tower, Weasley!"

"Right, about that- _I_ wasn't the one in the tower on Halloween… Rose was."

That inspired a few very unladylike insults to be mumbled under Christine's breath before she asked with a note of panicked anger "Why did you insist on sneaking into the tower yourselves anyways? It made way more sense for me to do it!"

Roxanne frowned. James had said Creevy refused to do it, so they had to. She opened her mouth to ask more about it when a firm voice called "Miss Christine."

Both girls started guiltily then turned to find Jonovan Malam Orion himself walking a few feet behind them, smiling softly in the eternal manner of a snake. He spoke out again "Fortunate I ran into you; shall we proceed to our meeting?"

Roxanne nervously watched Rasputin climb up his master's robes and perch on his shoulders, smiling that toothy rat grin again. By the time she brought herself to look away Creevy was already walking toward the assistant with the reluctant air of dread about her. "Am I in trouble, sir?"

"There is an urgent matter that could not wait any longer." he said in a tense voice normally reserved for issuing detention. Orion's familiar hissed in agreement.

The girls' eyes met one last time before Creevy left with him, doing her best to maintain an air of nonchalance and innocence. Roxanne rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly, trying to think through what would happen to the girl, when her stomach growled.

She turned to go to the Great Hall. She'd tell James about this over a plate of food; he'd plan their next move from there.

* * *

Rose had finally decided what to do about the transfer's journal. She just needed to put it someplace the girl herself would find it and assume it was left behind. Simple, right?

Wrong. It was only now that Rose realized her only class with the transfer was astrology, and that tower was used by literally everyone in the school. It would be highly illogical for any lost item to stay there after that much foot traffic. So, with a sigh, Rose had come to the conclusion that she needed to leave the journal in their tutoring room.

She got to their session early and tucked it into one of the many student desks. It might take Zoey a few days to find it, but that would be even better. The more time passed the less of a surprise it would be to see it here.

Straightening up and brushing nonexistent dust from her knees, she turned to find Scorpius standing in the doorway. She jumped in surprise and wondered if he'd seen her.

"What is that book?"

He'd seen her. "It's- um- I dunno, it just- I found it." It didn't sound too obvious, since she'd said it a few times already. Some of her dormmates had asked about her newest book.

Scorpius walked over and pulled it out, frowning at the bindings. "Strange," he mumbled and opened it, then his eyebrows rose at the altered runes inside. "Now that's unique."

Rose hummed non-comitantly and walked away, not trusting her mouth to say anything.

He flipped through the pages for a bit to see if there was anything written in normal scripts, but there weren't. Eventually shrugged and put it back where he'd found it- runes were not one of his interests. He missed Rose's sigh of relief that his attention had moved on.

The silence stretched as they looked at the clock. Rose glanced up at the time repeatedly while Scorpius set up a chess set, then did a double take. "Is that- muggle?"

He raised an eyebrow without looking away from the pieces he was arranging. "You've seen me use them before."

"But-" Rose crouched in front of the board, floored by her discovery "-but you _hate_ muggles."

"Do I, Thorn?" Scorpius finally turned a gaze on her. "Do I really?"

"Yes." She answered liked he'd just asked if the sky was blue.

"For someone who complains about preconceived opinions, Thorn, you have quite a few of your own. I do not 'hate' muggles."

"Of course you do. You always-" no, that wasn't right. "You call them-" actually, now that she thought back she'd never heard him insult muggles. "I- you just do!"

He snorted at her pitiful attempt to present an argument, considering his point to be made and won. "Malam doesn't have a wizard set, so we've been using this one until she plays better." A decent wizarding set would never listen to someone of her skills.

Rose watched him go about setting up the game to play against himself, as he always did during the hour she tried to teach Malam from textbooks. "...how about a match?"

Scorpius paused and flicked his eyes up to her, asking in a bland voice "What?"

"I- I mean," Rose blushed, "You always play the transfer, but- you've never played me, and I _know_ how to play."

Letting the passing insult at Malam go for the moment, Scorpius leaned back and allowed note of surprise enter his voice. "You do?"

"Of course." She huffed and sat across from him, spinning the board so that she could have the white pieces. As she moved her pawn she bragged "My dad won the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in years during his first year here."

Scorpius's eyes narrowed a touch, then moved his King's pawn to match hers.

Grinning her success at getting him to play against with her, Rose eagerly responded quickly.

Ignoring her pawn push for the moment, Scorpius moved his queen. She pulled out her knight. He moved his bishop.

Rose hopped her horse again and smiled triumphantly as she announced "Garde!", flaunting the sportsmanlike term to show she could take his queen in the next round if he wasn't careful.

He didn't even blink and moved the queen all the way forward to take the king's side bishop pawn. As he took the piece he blandly reported "Checkmate."

"Wha-" she looked down at her board and her face flushed in mortification.

"Your dad may have had one good match here," Scorpius stood and leaned over the table as he knocked her king over for her. "But you are not your father."

She cringed at the hiss in his voice and expected him to insult her further, but instead he sat back down and put his pieces back in place. That was one annoyance of muggle chess; the games had to be set himself. His own pieces knew to go to their spots on their own. "You use a wizarding set, right?"

"Yes." Rose said. It the same one her dad had used in his school days, and had been her grandfather's. Hand-me-downs were still very much a thing in the Weasley family.

"There you have it." Scorpius explained her easy loss. "That set would have warned you about the trap I had coming for you."

"What?" She asked, then realised he was talking about the incessant ramblings of any chess set. The pieces most definitely would have complained to her about an imminent loss. "Oh."

"That's the difference. Wizard sets, you have to ignore their opinions. Muggle sets-" he picked up his king for a moment and looked at it, then put it down. "-you're on your own. You have to think for yourself the whole way through." Which, in his opinion, was the best person to trust anyways.

Seeing the curt movements of his hands Rose could tell he was upset, and that made her scowl. _He_ had no right to be upset right now. _She_ was the one who had just lost the game in four moves! And after she'd finally gotten him to give her a chance at it instead of only playing the transfer. It wasn't fair.

Her passing though about Hogwarts' transfer student took her mind on a different path. Leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms Rose wondered what he thought of Zoey's relationship with Orion now that it was public knowledge. Now, Scorpius had certainly never said nor given any indication of believing the article and its slander, but to Rose that slander was fact and anyone who said otherwise didn't know the truth when they saw it. And Scorpius was no idiot. She knew it would be strange to just come out and ask him, but maybe it would come up if she just kept him talking. She thought back to her last conversations with him to think of a topic. "So how's that 'private project' going for you?"

Scorpius glanced up at her, wondering how her brain had jumped to that. "Why are you interested?"

She tapped her fingers on her arms for a few moments, then said "I know which books you've been checking out lately: _Schools of Magics, Memoirs of Masters_ , _Histories of Divining Arts, Specialties in Spells…_ "

After realizing she was not only capable but literally going through all the books he'd used in the past few weeks, he interrupted "And what did you discover from stalking my reading selections?"

She immediately blushed. "I- it's not stalking! I just- there was a huge gap in a shelf and I wondered who took them all and- it was you and your friends that- I am _not_ a stalker."

His mouth tightened as he tried not to smile at her antics, rolling his wrist for her to actually get around to answering his question.

"And- well- you're researching types of magic." she finished, still beyond embarrassed. "You're going about it all wrong, though."

"How so?"

"There's better books on them. You're not even in the best shelf- you're looking at things far below your reading level."

"Was that a compliment?" He raised an eyebrow, considering what she'd told him.

"What- that- so what if it was?" She looked to the side and let her thick red hair fall forward to hide the blush she felt spreading, "It would be embarrassing for my rival to be anything less."

Scorpius blinked. First she outright said she admired his skills, then Rose admitted to a voluntary compliment. A backhanded compliment, to be sure, but he realised that was probably what she was most comfortable giving. He tilted his head at her for a few moments, needing only a few moments to make up his mind. "So help me find better ones."

"It's not like you-" her mouth dropped open when she realized what he'd said. "You want me to what?"

"Show me the books you were talking about." He commented as he started playing chess against himself, as was his norm. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at her. "Unless, of course, they don't actually exist."

She bristled at the insinuation she had made that up for some reason. "Of course they exist! I've read them a dozen times."

"Even better," he said, a stark contrast of calm against her explosive reactions. "You can tell me what sections I need to focus on."

Wait- now he wanted her to not only show the books to him, but to _help_ his research? Rose's mouth dropped open and stayed there.

Scorpius smirked at her expression. "Unless you think you'd have nothing to contribute. In that case, I am more than capable-"

"Tomorrow. After tutoring." She said curtly, having made up her mind.

"Tomorrow it is." He smiled, taking the black king off the board with an expression of success.

"What about Wednesday?" Zoey asked as she walked in, having just barely heard the last words of their conversation from the door. Her hair was neon-green today. It was a color that should have made anyone look sickly, but made Malam just look more energetic. "Are we changing the times? If ya'll have practice after I don't mind coming here earlier or moving to Fri-"

"No. We're not." Rose clipped out, annoyed at the rambling interruption. She got up from the desk and glanced up at the clock. "You're here early."

"I know… is that a bad thing?" she said, and shocked them both by not following up with one of her extended follow-up questions. There was a long silence as they waited for her to continue while she waited for their answer.

"No." Scorpius eventually spoke in the slightly awkward atmosphere as she walked in and set her books down. He looked between the armful of textbooks and her bag, asking "Is there a particular reason you decided to use your arms instead of the readily available mode of transportation on your shoulder?"

'Is there a particular reason…' was a phrase he often used while tutoring her. 'Is there a particular reason… you haven't practiced adequately this since your last session?' Is there a particular reason… you did the motion for _wingardium leviosa_ while you were casting _flipendo_?' 'Is there a particular reason… you are holding your wand with both hands… _again_?'

This time though, Zoey had a better answer than her usual embarrassed hems and haws. She pulled the empty bag from her shoulder, holding it sideways so that she could she look at them both through the giant cut at the bottom of it. "Boo." she said with amusement, since they both looked surprised anyways.

"What did you do?" Rose accused in shock, walking up to inspect the damage.

"I hardly expect she damaged her own item," Scorpius pointed out, seeing the cut just fine from a distance. He felt the article that Rupert had passed on to him burning a hole in his pocket; there was no way that had been an accident.

"And we have a winner!" Zoe smiled and made the _dingdingding_ sound of a game show as she pointed at Scorpius. "Someone else was in charge of this fiasco. Not sure who; not that I mind. There's absolutely nothing wrong with my arms, and I have some thread up at my dorm. I'll fix it up tonight."

"Thread?" Rose scoffed distastefully and pulled out her wand, flicking it at the damaged item as she said " _Repairo."_

Zoey watched with no small amount of fascination as the rip in her bag mended itself in no time flat. "Thanks," she grinned, testing the strength of it before she started organizing her books back into it.

"Why would someone do that, anyways?" Rose scoffed, because Merlin knew Zoey didn't need yet _another_ excuse to do poorly at class.

"You mean you haven't heard?" she looked at the Gryffindor girl with surprise and- Scorpius was confused to see- a bit of relief.

"Heard what?"

"The _Scandals,_ " Scorpius answered and pulled the article from his pocket, putting it on the desk closest to the middle of them. At Zoey's look of surprise he explained to her "Apparently the Hufflepuffs wanted to make sure you were warned ahead of time, so I was 'recruited' to make sure you knew."

Rose looked at the article in confusion, considering it to be entirely unrelated to the question she'd just asked. Her reaction looked like simple surprise to the onlookers.

Zoey's relief became even more palpable as she explained "Some idiots got it in their head that Orion and I are romantic. And decided that the entirety of Hogwarts should share that unfounded opinion. Which is quite rude; even if it were true-" she visibly shuddered at the thought. "It's not exactly tactful nor kind to make it everybody's business in this way. Or in _any_ way, really."

Her jaw dropped at the blatant denial. It sounded sincere, but- "But you kiss him!"

They all looked at the article to see the incriminating but innocent contact occur. Scorpius frowned at the timing; Rose had pointed _before_ it had happened. Had she actually seen this before?

"Have you ever kissed your brother?" Zoey asked instead of answered, deciding there wasn't much point in hiding their relationship anymore. "Or your mum? On the cheek, at like family occasions or when you haven't seen each other for a while?"

Rose froze and felt like she was choking. "You- are you saying-"

"You're related?" Scorpius finished in surprise, not expecting that.

"His family adopted me when I was, like, five." She spoke with too much confidence for that 'like' to have been true hesitation. It seemed more like her explanation was habitual and she wasn't actually thinking about what was coming from her mouth. And indeed it was as she explained blandly for what must have been the millionth time in her life "He's practically a brother. No romance there whatsoever. "

"That's why you call him Jon," Scorpius said with a small epiphany as all of her mannerisms relating to the assistant started making sense. "I take it McGonagall was the one who wanted to keep your relation under wraps?"

"We all thought it'd be distracting. You'd be surprised how many of his classmates used to bribe me to put in a good word as his 'little sister'." Her nose crinkled in distaste at the memory. "They were stupid, shallow- witches, most of the time. I didn't want to deal with that here."

Scorpius felt his eyebrows raise a fraction, shocked both at her near slip into the rhyming muggle insult and that her opinion actually matched his. He felt a kernel of regret that he'd ever considered her within that category; and that he hadn't taken the time to reevaluate her since. Though to be fair, this was probably the closest Wainbata had ever come to talking about herself.

"So-" Rose practically squeaked, then steeled herself. Adopted didn't mean related. It was new information, but it didn't disprove the article. Zoey was just putting on an act to get sympathy. She had to be. "So how is that related to your bag?"

Two sets of eyes looked at her incredulously, and Rose experience the unsettling sensation being treated as the stupid one for once.

"Thorn," Scorpius said with a note of disbelief, "what do you think would happen when Hogwarts students read something like this? Wizards have a tendency to take matters into their own hands. The students here are no exception, they read this and took punishing action. "

"Punishing? You mean- bullying?" The Legacy child couldn't imagine it. She'd been treated as a cherished and thrice-blessed girl her whole life, even by strangers. Rose had never so much as been seriously insulted by anyone who wasn't Slytherin, whose opinions didn't matter anyways. To her bullying was a thing that happened in books or in the past. It wasn't something that was really _real._

Zoey laughed at her response, relieved to finally be talking to someone else who found this whole situation just as ridiculous as she did. "Yeah Rose, bullying. I have to admit you wizards get really creative with it though- I was caught in the most ridiculous contraption earlier. Someone was pouring sand over me from a giant hourglass, can you imagine?" Tilting her head forward, she shook her fingers in her bright hair to make some sand fall with a soft patter to the ground. She frowned- despite almost an hour in the bathroom she knew that would keep happening until she got time for a decent shower.

Rose's mouth dropped opened at the obvious proof. "Who- who was it?"

"Dunno. Never met them." The Ravenclaw shrugged, but it was a small motion that was more theatrical than genuine. "Not that I care to. People who believe something like that are either idiots or too easily influenced by others. And the people who start it are always hardcore gossips desperate for drama because there's something missing in their own lives."

Rose stiffened, then stiffened more when Scorpius laughed in surprised amusement. It was only for a few seconds, but it was still a laugh. "That was a wonderfully refreshing way to describe those kinds of people."

 _Those kinds of people_ … his words echoed in Rose's head and made her miss the continuation of the conversation.

"I mean really- not one person has actually been brave enough to ask me about it! Not even the Gryffindors!"

"Oh? So you think they've lost their bravery?"

Zoey protested, blushing a pretty soft pink that made Scorpius smile at her embarrassment, pointing out that she'd been the one to say it, after all.

Something nasty churned in Rose's gut. She couldn't have blushed like that if she wanted to- she'd just turn into an unattractive, glowing tomatohead. And why was she being ignored? "Maybe they don't need to ask you about it," she muttered just loud enough to be heard.

Zoey blinked mid-protest and turned to look at her tutor, blinking in honest confusion. "What?"

"Maybe they don't need to ask. Maybe they believe their own eyes instead of what they're told. Maybe they're not _stupid_ and their lives are perfectly fine!"

Shrinking back from her snap of anger, the transfer student tried vainly to understand what had set her friend off _this_ time. She glanced at Scorpius for help, but he was watching at the Granger-Weasley as well and missed her silent plea.

Rose saw it though and it didn't do much to calm her. This girl had everyone wrapped around her little finger, didn't she? Even Scorpius bloody Malfoy. All it had taken was two minutes and he made a complete change from his standing opinion to agree with her.

"I- I wasn't talking about you," Zoey protested with no idea that she actually had been. Then she realized that Rose had just referenced people she had deemed as the instigators of the rumor. She sat up straight with eagerness at the idea, forgetting her confusion. "Rose, do you know who wrote this? If I could just talk to them maybe-"

"That would be rather pointless." Scorpius Malfoy cut off the supremely bad idea. "All it would do is give the culprit more fuel to their accusations no matter what you said. Whoever it was obviously thinks they're right and whatever you say won't change that. Their opinion is obviously- set…" He trailed off. The word he'd meant to use was 'preconceived', making him relate back to his comment about Rose's character. That and her overreaction a mere moment ago gave him a very bad suspicion about how, exactly, Rose knew who wrote the article.

The Ravenclaw's face fell, and with it her mask for a few moments. It was enough to see how drained Zoey was after just a few days of this. Scorpius frowned and racked his brains for what words could help her, but before he could try she had lifted her gaze and her determination back up.

"I guess you're right Malfoy. Well- well, who cares." She straightened and stretched with a deep breath, as though she needed a physical confirmation of her own pep talk. "Who cares what they do? I can take it. I'm not that weak- and besides, it's not like anyone I know believes this sham, right? Nobody who knows me would give it a second glance… no way."

It was so obvious that she was convincing herself that even Rose realised how much strain she was under to keep up her 'normal' facade. For a moment her heart went out to the girl, to her pain in this situation that was far from her own fault…

Then she caught herself and scowled. This was exactly what she'd meant earlier. Zoey Malam was a manipulative actor that was just lying to get sympathy; she had to be. If she wasn't that would mean Rose was… _wrong_. And that everything she'd done was- was for nothing, and that Zoey was innocent. And that- no, she thought as she fiercely shoved her guilt back down. No. Zoey was lying… she had to be.

If she stayed here one more second, though, she knew her resolve would weaken. Zoey's- _lies_ would sway her. She picked up her bag and said softly "I quit."

For the second time her whispered comment made them look at her incredulously. "You what?" Scorpius asked, his disbelief lined with a bit of hope.

"I quit. I'm not tutoring you any more. This- this sort of thing is not something I want to get mixed up in." Rose waved at the article, her throat still tight. _Not anymore, at least._

"But…" Zoey mumbled, looking up with moist green eyes that were begging Rose not to leave because of this.

Rose felt her resolve waiver before she ruthlessly shoved her guilt away a second time. She couldn't stay, she just couldn't. It would hurt too much. "I quit." She declared a third and final time, but added as an afterthought "I'll see you on tomorrow after you're done with her, Scorpius."

He raised his eyebrows at the callous words that flaunted Rose's rejection of Zoey but her acceptance on him in the Zoey's face. After a moment of consideration he decided that her assistance in his research was still necessary though, so he nodded once in agreement.

She nodded before turning on her heel and resuming her walk out the door. The Ravenclaw closed her mouth silently and watched Rose go, her stomach plummeting.

Scorpius Malfoy blinked at the door for a few moments, half expecting the Weasley to come back just as quickly as she'd left. Her sudden attitude and departure, for all he knew, was part of one of her strange Weasley moodswings… or, his suspicions could be right and she'd not only known but been part of the creation of the _Scandals_ article.

After a few moments Zoey chuckled under her breath, letting it trail off into a sigh. "Don't blame her, really. If I could just walk away from this I would." She paused, remembering Jon's suggestion to leave Hogwarts and her immediate denial, then amended her statement. "If I could walk away from this happening to _someone else_ I would… maybe… if it was someone I didn't know or… didn't care about…"

Scorpius saw that she was working herself back into a depression, but really had no idea what could excuse Rose's action. If he didn't say something she would just talk herself worse. "You probably would just treat that friend like you always do. You're so oblivious, you probably wouldn't care what they thought of you for it or even notice how everyone else was acting around them."

She chuckled lightly. "Thanks… I think."

Considering his statement, Scorpius Malfoy realized he was probably best with backhanded compliments as well. Which probably wasn't helpful to her right now, so instead of speaking he nodded once. He regretted that for a moment when the silence stretched on.

Eventually Zoey sighed and met his gaze. "Look, thanks for being here and all, but after- all of today," she dodged saying Rose's name, "I really don't think I could focus. Can we take a rain check on my tutoring for now?"

Scorpius looked back at her and realized she was trying to give him an out, an excuse to do the exact same thing that Rose had but with less fanfare. And, since she'd yet to utter a lie to him, she probably really didn't think she could focus. But he still had the suspicion that as soon as she was alone she'd hide someplace and cry.

He realised his revelation left him in a very perilous predicament. If he left, 'Scorpius Malfoy' would be be labeled as the guy who abandoned her in a moment of need. If Scorpius stayed, he'd be the guy who didn't give her the space she wanted. He put a couple of fingers to his temple as he felt a migraine coming. He did _not_ know how to deal with girl drama. His eyes fell to the article, and Scorpius Malfoy felt a metaphorical light go off in his mind as he remembered how he'd gotten it.

"Actually," he proposed, "How do you feel about a field trip?"

* * *

Harry Potter sighed as he faced his persistent and undying nemesis: Paperwork. The stacks loomed around his Ministry Office and he'd made barely a dent in it despite working through them most of the morning.

He practically leapt from his chair when his alarm went off to let him know that it was time for his meeting, eager for interaction with people. He told himself that it was the paperwork and not his age that made his back ache with the movement.

"Can I help you Mr. Potter?" his newly-appointed assistant asked as he walked through the Auror office toward the elevator.

Having someone at his literal beck-and-call had once made Harry uncomfortable, but now it was just part of his daily routine. "Tell any visitors I am booked for the next hour. At least- actually, tell them an hour and a half."

"Yes sir." Colin agreed and wrote that down while the elevator dinged and opened.

Hermione was already waiting inside and she nodded to Harry as he added over his shoulder "And get Sanderson to finish those reports by the end of the day."

"...he's out, sir."

Harry stopped stepping into the elevator and looked at his assistant. "Out?"

"The Creature's department put him on assignment to help with Dementors," he said mildly, his voice growing timid. "It was in the transcripts…"

A deep sigh. "Put his reports on my desk." He'd have to do them himself, then.

"Yes sir. Anything else?"

"Not at the moment, Colin." he said, startling the assistant who would only be there a week and had not expected _the Harry Potter_ to know let alone remember his name. Harry walked into the elevator, sighing but eager to get to his lunch 'meeting' with the Minister of Magic. Hermione could tell he wanted a moment of silence and gave it him, the pair walking silently to the Minister of Magic's office.

Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt had learned long ago that, as politicians, there was always someone who wanted to see them for a meeting. Rushing from crisis to crisis was stressful and not a very healthy lifestyle. Ginny, bless her, had been the one to suggest that the pair make an official meeting with each other over their lunch to make sure they could actually eat. Hermione came along from time to time as well.

And of course, as Minister of Magic and the Head of Aurors, their small talk would inevitably turn to serious matters anyways. As it did this time, when Harry- after finishing his meal and finding a few spare minutes left- requested a planning meeting over the dementor issues.

"I understand Magical Creatures Department needing my people, Shacklebolt, I really do- but they need to do a better job of letting me know!"

Kingsley sighed. Having once been an auror himself he understood the frustration of random assignments, his people being called upon by what felt like all of the Ministry.

"If you actually did your paperwork, Harry," Hermione Granger felt obliged to point out, "You'd have that warning. I swear, I've never seen a place as messy as your office."

A small grumble of reluctant agreement later, Harry added "I still have a point. Almost a third of my men are working on the dementor problem and I'm left sitting in my office- twiddling my thumbs- wondering where everyone's going!"

Kingsley was well aware that the head of the auror office never had spare time to _actually_ 'twiddle his thumbs', Harry just tended to get dramatic when emotional. "What are you proposing?"

He couldn't believe he was about to say this… "I want a meeting with them. I want to see their investigators in person, ask the questions I want answers to, and know they have a rhyme and reason to where they're sending my Aurors."

Hermione blinked at him in shock, considering that he never would have calmly suggested something like that when he started working as an Auror. He would've have insisted on being put in the front line immediately and then bothered over the details. Smiling as she sipped her cup of tea, she turned to the Minister. "Sounds reasonable to me."

Kingsley nodded agreement, "I'll put it together."

There was a few more minutes of pleasant conversation before a courier arrived with mail for each of them. The three adults sighed almost in unison; this was always the unofficial end to their lunch breaks. They would all sort through their mail, find something that was inevitably urgent requiring their interventions, and then disperse.

Kingsley was the one who found an urgent letter first. "Hogwarts?" he said aloud in shock as he recognized the wax seal, frowning when he saw it was from Jonovan Orion. He opened it in silence- it seemed that some students were digging unnecessarily deep into Zoethia's past, and Jonovan had been investigating. He immersed himself in the letter- that wouldn't do…

"That reminds me Harry-" Hermione said as they waited for the Minister to inevitably dismiss them from his office. "When are we going back for that follow-up lesson on Patronuses?"

"I have it set for the last weekend of November, just before they get off for Christmas." he reported, "I'll send the exact date to you; it's escaping my mind for the moment."

"Hm." Hermione hummed passingly, "Do you suppose that they'll do any better?"

"Well-"

"What," Kingsley Shacklebolt interrupted their conversation, having just finished Jon's letter and shocked to find the names of a young _Potter_ and _Granger-Weasley_ in the list, "Are your children doing at Hogwarts?"

* * *

The cold winter air burned in Scorpius' lungs. He finished running the DDC obstacle course for the tenth time, grinning from ear to ear. His idea to take Zoey to this club sooner rather than later had been particularly inspired, and had done its job of alleviating the drama.

Confused by his field trip suggestion, Zoey Malam had barely mumbled "Sure…?" before he'd had her pick up her things and led the way down and out to the Hogwarts grounds walking so fast she was practically jogging to keep up.

Rupert had been surprised to see them but not overly so; he'd expected Scorpius to bring her over eventually. He greeted the confused Ravenclaw with a smile and introduced himself with a firm handshake.

"I'm Rupert Tring."

"...Zoethia Malam." She took the hand, still a bit bewildered by the turn of events. "Call me Zoey."

"Call him Sergeant." Scorpius had told her, filling her in on the title since Isabelle and Nott were both busy overseeing the dueling pits. "The whole club does."

Rupert looked at him with exasperation. "Something I try to discourage."

"Okay…" she thought for a moment to find a nickname that suited his real name. "Can I call you RT then? Or should I call you Pert or Rupy instead?"

Scorpius snorted behind his fist while the club president turned a deep red and said "Stick with Sarge."

"Got it Sarge." Zoey grinned triumphantly, making both boys wonder if she'd intentionally picked such terrible suggestions so she could use the one she wanted.

She was then given a tour of the place and was obviously intrigued by what she saw, the obstacle course in particular catching her eye. It had pits, planks, and climbing vines that club members were already navigating, a number of them dirty and sweaty from the physical endeavor. One section of the course was timed with a single person charging through at top speed and their time recording itself onto a floating blackboard, and if it was good enough they signed their name on the overall top records.

Zoey read that Rupert, Nott, and Isabelle- in that order- held the top three records for the standard course. On all the special courses, which she was told changed periodically to challenge different skills, they were at least in the top ten.

"What's with the vines?" She asked curiously, her usual personality showing more and more as she relaxed "How do they move like that? Why do they respond to the spells that hit them- how do they know to replace and reform a lost structure? Are they sentient?" She winced at the idea and finished "Do they feel pain?"

Rupert had been momentarily distracted by her energetic tone and hand waving that matched her queries, as this was his first time seeing it. Then he chuckled and shook his head as he tried to answer "Longbottom made them- a very tame and controlled Devil's Snare and Venomous Tentacula crossbreed. He experimented with it for years before deeming it safe enough for this environment."

Zoey didn't know better, but Scorpius's eyes widened in shock as he looked at the vines with new consideration. Those were two of the most dangerous plants known to wizardkind. His opinion of the Herbology Professor went up a few notches.

"Do they feel pain?" Zoey asked again, noting that he hadn't answered.

Rupert paused, then shook his head. "They're still plants. I would think not."

She frowned at his uncertain response and decided she would have to ask Longbottom.

Then Zoey was taken aside so Rupert could personally help the girl with her wandwork, leaving Scorpius to do his own activities in the Obstacle Course.

It had been a win-win in his opinion; he'd given Zoey a suitable distraction from her imminent tears, AND was far enough from her that he wasn't crowding her. More than that, having watched Rupert's interaction with her, he knew the Hufflepuff was true to his word concerning Malam. There was no malice or prejudice in their interaction, and he had genuinely accepted her into the club. The other members recognized Zoey from a great distance with her neon green hair, but having seen their 'Sergeant' openly endorse her they had either maintained a respectful distance or been polite in conversation with the girl. She was welcome here.

Scorpius was about to go through the course again when a shrill whistle went through the club, and Rupert called out "All right Club! Time's up for tonight- let's get to dinner."

Half the members groaned in disappointment, others gave halfhearted cheers, but everyone readily went to the castle to get their food. No showers at the quidditch lockers today- they were just as freezing cold, but the snow was thick enough that none of them were covered in slush like before.

He followed the crowd up the slope to the castle, then looked around with a small frown. A certain distinctive head of vibrant hair was missing. Figuring another girl would know, he walked up to Isabelle. "Where did Malam go?"

"She said she was going to meet a friend down by the lake docks."

The lake? He frowned, looking in that direction. The lake docks that had been made for spectators during the Second Challenge of Harry Potter's Triwizard Tournament were still there and sometimes used by students who enjoyed the peaceful scenery. Not many people ever went that way because it was a long walk away from, well, anywhere.

Personally, he had never been there. But he knew the way. The Slytherin looked down the path that would take him there, then started walking down it without so much as a 'goodbye' to the DDC members. Malam's tutoring time wasn't technically over yet so technically, Scorpius Malfoy was supposed to stay with the transfer student. Headmistress McGonagall's orders.

If he also happened to be curious about who Wainbata's 'friend' was, well, that was just two targets with one spell.

As he walked the edge of the freezing lake he saw a group of girls standing at the very edge of the docks, their voices carrying on the wind. Walking the curve gave him a new point of view with every step and soon enough that he saw the group was four girls circled around a green-haired individual.

He started walking faster, careful not to slip on ice patches.

Something loud carried on the wind, then a scream of indignation before one of the girls shoved Zoey, who gave a short cry of her own before falling into the freezing lake.

Scorpius felt his pulse stutter with shock as she fell through the thin layer of ice, running faster toward it even as the group ran away in panic.

Leena led them, looking at her three friends with panic. "Don't tell _anyone."_

"But what if she tells McGonagall?"

"She wouldn't dare." Leena assured, but her voice wavered with uncertainty. None of them noticed Scorpius approaching or even that they'd been seen.

His gaze narrowed at the girls as he saw red, sorely tempted to follow them to make sure a professor would know about this. Instead he tore himself away to check on Malam first. Would his _Accio_ be strong enough to pull her to the surface? In his rush he forgot to check his footing and slipped a few inches on the ice covering the docks, and the pause made him realize that the docks weren't silent.

"No, that does not count as saving my life again." he heard Zoey saying "I would have made it myself, and the _first_ time it was _your_ nets that almost drowned us."

Soft clicks and screeches answered Zoey's words.

"Ha ha." A pause. "Can you help me get up now?"

Scorpius made it to the end of the docs in time to see Zoey soar through the air to land on the freezing wood in a very undignified manner, landing heavily on her side with a wet thud. Despite rubbing her hip, which would undoubtedly bruise from the collision, she mumbled through chattering teeth "You're ge-get-ting better T-Tristan."

A screeching laugh came from under her.

"Tristan?" Scorpius asked, now close enough to think announcing his presence was necessary.

Zoey jumped in surprise at his proximity, then shivered in the cold wind. She curled into herself and breathed on her freezing fingers as she chided "Are you _trying_ to make me fall in again Malfoy?"

"You did not fall." He corrected, entirely aware of the fake tale she was preparing to give him. "And who is 'Tristan'?"

She had the dignity to blush at being caught in the lie and gestured over the dock "He is."

Scorpius carefully leaned over to look at the water below them and was shocked to see a pair of large yellow eyes looking back at him. Floating- well, swimming in the water below them was the only merperson he had ever seen. He took in the stringy green hair, glowing fish eyes and large silver tail with no small trace of awe. His scaled torso was well muscled and certainly capable of throwing a fourteen-year-old human onto the dock.

Tristan, the friend she'd been meeting, was a merman?

As if sensing his shock the merman chattered something else in mermish before diving back under the water with a powerful flick of a long silver tail, sending spiderwebbing cracks across the thin ice of the lake.

"That was unnecessary!" Zoey shouted after him, annoyed. Then she cradled back around a purple flame she'd grown in her hands, craving the small warmth it it gave her. The wet strands of her hair looked more like green icicles.

Reminded of her imminent danger of hypothermia Scorpius shrugged off his robe and draped it around her soggy form, knowing that her soaked uniform was refreezing her every time the wind blew. He wasn't sure what had happened between her and the girls that had pushed her, but his mind was still busy wrapping itself around the fact that _Wainbata_ could understand _Mermish._ "How do you know a merman?"

"Tristan s-saved me and Hugo." She said, sighing with relief and growing the flame a bit larger now that she was starting to regain feeling in her limbs. She was still pale and her lips were almost literally blue from her brief submersion, her whole body shivering with every light breeze. "He and his people were hunting the Kelpie that attacked us on our way to the Sorting Ceremony; we sorta got caught in their nets and started drowning."

"Oh is that all?" he said, amused by how casual she was being about someone who had almost drowned her. He pulled Malam to her feet and helped her start walking off the docks so she wouldn't slip like he had earlier. It was far too windy on the lake.

"He has since apologized. And he's really nice." She defended, stumbling as she tried to walk on numb legs. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

"You can actually understand him?"

"Please. I've heard worse accents." She paused. "Sometimes. Rarely. Okay not really, but I still know what he means."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow, but didn't pry any further. As soon as as they were on solid ground he bent over and put a hand behind her knees, lifting her up as easily as he had the second time they'd met.

"Wha- what're you- hold on-" her surprise made her lose concentration on the magic flame in her hands and she shivered violently from its loss. Her teeth started chattering audibly. "Wh-wh-what-t ar-re you do-oing?"

"Blocking the wind." He declared clinically and adjusted his grip, as though daring her to question his medical decision as he walked them up to Hogwarts castle. "Get that flame back up."

Not able to really argue against the action or claim that she _wasn't_ warmer with the solid body by her blocking the freezing winter air, Zoey nodded and breathed into her hands again, concentrating. With every small bit of warmth she breathed onto herself she cradled her magic around and captured the heat until it grew, aware that her fingers would glow a soft lavender until she opened them to reveal a fresh flame that burned royal purple.

Scorpius had watched her make the magic fire with interest. "You didn't use your wand."

She grinned as the charms of her bracelet clicked against each other. "It's not very ha-andy right now."

It seemed she'd missed the point of the query so he clarified. "You didn't _need_ it?"

"No?" Zoey answered with an edge of confusion, looking up at him. "...should I? It's pretty simple."

Scorpius looked at the small purple flame. It looked like a variation of bluebell flames, but it gave off far more warmth and he'd never heard of a witch conjuring them without their wand. Though he supposed he'd never heard of it being impossible either.

He decided to test her skill with it their next tutoring session and refocused on the problem at hand. "So I saw Leena- who else was with her?"

Zoey immediately shook her head, turning to look up at him. "Don't, Malfoy. It was an accident."

"Oh, how silly of me. So they didn't push you into the frozen lake and leave you there to freeze to death. Is there a particular reason you decided a swim at the start of winter was a good idea?"

She flicked one of the arms that was holding her. "Don't be dramatic; at _worst_ , I will catch a cold. Gawd you're as bad as Tristan."

…Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy wasn't sure how to respond to being compared to a merman. He decided that silence would work best.

Zoey sighed and explained "I'm not saying they didn't push me, Malfoy. I'm only saying that they didn't push me _into the lake._ I lost my balance on an ice patch and fell in on my own."

"And then they just left you."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes. "What were _you_ doing down by the lake anyways?"

He met her gaze for a moment, then looked away to focus on the stairs up to the castle as he pointed out "I asked first, Malam."

There was a moment of silence as he waited for her own curiosity to break her resolve, which it inevitably did. Zoey sighed and admitted "Look, I don't blame them for the push. It was- well, I might have- _just a bit-_ said that Leena was bright as a troll and deserved a lifetime of warts and boils to match her personality."

Scorpius nearly choked on his attempt to smother his laughter. He knew Malam had absolutely no filter between her opinions and her mouth, but hadn't realized it extended to other people until she'd insulted the school's gossip chain earlier. Leena Derving was part of that chain. That girl knew she was hands down the prettiest girl of their year and had a snobbery personality to match. He would have _paid_ to see Leena's reaction to an honest insult like that.

Though, he realized as Wainbata shivered again, he probably just had.

"So?" Zoey poked him. "Your turn, Malfoy."

"You know it's funny," He full out grinned as he pictured her reaction to his next words. "But I don't remember actually agreeing to this 'deal' of yours. _You_ assumed."

She didn't disappoint him. Zoey's mouth dropped open at the familiar words and she pushed back so she could look him dead in the eye as she warned with all the ferocity of a clawless cat. "Oh no you did not…"

"Use the exact same trick I used to learn your first name?" Scorpius smirked, setting her down just outside the doors into the castle. Her cheeks were puffed with indignation and he'd wager she was a few irritations away from literally growling. "Why yes, I did. No wonder you don't get better against me in chess, _Wainbata_."

"Youugh…" grumbling words under her breath Zoey opened the giant door, privately ranting and waving her hands in the air to accentuate her own points. The only part he understood was "...never going to live that down..."

"Not a chance."

Actually growling at the fact that he'd heard her Zoey rushed ahead of him into the castle. After a few steps though she stopped and sighed in relief at the warmth that the school gave her. Her shivers starting up again at the change of environment and she rubbed her arms to increase her own bloodflow.

Scorpius caught up and pulled his robe off her shoulders as he kept walking past Zoey, folding the soggy article over his arm. It wasn't helping her anymore and "I don't plan on waiting a year to get this back again."

"It was a _week_ before I got that house-elf to give it back to you. It's not my fault if you can't tell them apart," she rushed a few steps to catch up with them. "That is the point of them being _uni-_ form. The word literally means 'one'-'shape' when you break it down! It's not like you really missed it or anything, took you all summer to notice."

"Hm." He hummed noncommittally, ready to let her rant on her way through the halls. Which she did quite readily, undeterred by his silence.

Then she paused mid-word in the middle of the hallway, freezing in place. She tilted her head as though listening to something in the silent air, then turned to face a unicorn tapestry. She stared at it as though expecting it to come to life, standing in a strange pose with her hands up from her previous ranting.

"Malam?"

She ignored his query but started moving, straightening to a normal position as she walked to the tapestry and straight through the passage behind it. After a moment Scorpius followed her, absentmindedly inspecting the secret passage he'd never seen before.

Zoey turned around the dark corners with surprising confidence until it opened into another main hallway, pushing open a portrait like a door to see a pair of boys underneath her, talking loudly.

"You've been following me since dinner." James Sirius Potter scowled at the Ravenclaw boy behind him. "Stop stalking me."

"A surprising request, since you seem to crave attention." The boy challenged, his voice formal even as he said the biting words.

Scorpius smiled in silent agreement as he stood by Zoey, towering over her smaller frame. He looked down at her from the corner of his eye and pointed his chin to the Ravenclaw. "Friend of yours?"

She nodded quickly, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Zoey didn't elaborate further as she crouched down in the passageway, content to stay out of sight for the moment. As Scorpius Malfoy had no interest in the proceedings, he decided he may as well follow her lead and leaned against the wall.

"... especially since you know who's been infiltrating my House's security." The Ravenclaw continued, his dark hair blocking his expression from the two eavesdroppers. "That needs to stop."

"Oh that's rich, coming from someone who's been hounding my family all weekend. That's right, Roxanne warned me about you. You cornered Rose in the library about that article that's been going around."

"Your cousin was the one who collided into me. Does your entire family have a tendency to stretch truth for their own purposes, or is that just your specialty?"

"Don't-" James warned, drawing his wand, "-insult my family. We saved the wizarding world."

"No," he argued, entirely cold and relaxed despite the threat of violence. "Your parents did. It does you no benefit to claim their accomplishments as your own. In fact, I would say the pressure of their legacy has done you more harm than good."

There was a heavy pause, then James asked "Who _are_ you, anyways?"

The Ravenclaw responded with a condescending smile. "Someone who knows you, and your pension for pressing for answers where you have no business meddling."

Scorpius Malfoy found himself mirroring James' question, unsure of the Ravenclaw's identity but wanting to give the boy a firm handshake of respect. Where had this guy been the past four years? He looked down to ask Zoey about him only to see her drop from the waist-high passage to the ground, her soaked shoes squishing on the soft carpet.

James saw her first, his jaw dropping at the transfer's unexpected arrival. Then he straightened and adjusted his round glasses, his gaze narrowing. "What are _you_ doing here?" his gaze went up to the passage, and he snarled "Malfoy."

"Potter." he returned with a fair amount of his own venom before dropping out of the passage himself. As far as greetings between them went, this was actually fairly tame.

The Ravenclaw paused a moment before looking over his shoulder, then turned completely without care that it left him exposed to James's wand. "What happened?"

"Slipped into the lake," Zoey answered with her usual chipper tone as she approached them, "The docks had a lot of ice on it. As did the lake- though it's not too solid yet. I would know. I made a nice me-shaped hole in it. Luckily Tristan and Malfoy were around to help me out."

Scorpius debated correcting her white lie, but decided that Leena's actions weren't James's business. He stayed behind and a bit to the side of the conversation, discreetly pulling out his hawthorn wand to match Potter's.

"A Malfoy? _Helping_ someone?" James snorted unattractively and spoke as though the person himself wasn't even there. "Why would a snake like that fake humanity?"

Zoey's mouth dropped open and her eyes flashed, then she took half a breath and calmed herself down. "Well I would imagine it would have to do with the fact that he's my friend."

Scorpius winced internally, wishing that he'd just let her walk away instead of following her to this point. James Potter did _not_ treat Malfoy's friends nicely. His eyes already held a calculating light as they looked over the transfer.

"When did that happen?" The Ravenclaw reminded them of his presence as he looked Scorpius over in an assessing manner that felt vaguely familiar. His eyes paused over then dismissed the wand Scorpius held, rising again to the Slytherin's face.

His spine straightened, meeting the gaze. "Are my relationships of particular importance to you, mister…?"

"Smith." He answered, his brisque manner again striking a familiar chord. "And yours are of no consequence. Zoey's, however…"

All three boys looked at the girl to see her response.

"It- well… He's one of my-" she shifted her weight, her countenance going from nervous to just sad as she corrected herself "he's the private tutor McGonagall assigned me."

"You have _him_ for a tutor? What, did McGonagall not think Rose was good enough?" James saw the expression on her face and went from insulted in taunting, tapping his wand on his cheek. "Oh, don't tell me- Rosie was fine, but _you_ were the one that wasn't good enough?"

Zoey opened her mouth to respond, then just closed it and looked to the side, her cheeks flushing.

Scorpius pressed a couple fingers to his temple. Perfect, now she was back to being depressed about Rose. He blamed Potter.

He wasn't the only one. The Ravenclaw stepped between Malam and the Legacy child, his gaze dark. "Your own unremarkable skills give you no basis for an insult of that caliber Mr. Potter. You should take that back." His voice was no louder, but now held the deadly potential of a snake and it looked to Scorpius like the boy was standing taller than he had been.

James sneered, stepping forward. "Maybe I'd consider it, if you hadn't been after my own family. And you still haven't answered _my_ question."

It wasn't Scorpius's imagination, the Ravenclaw _was_ taller as he started looming over Potter, his words coming out more clipped "The world. Does not answer. To _you_."

A tense silence filled the hall as the James staggered back in a moment of shock. If it weren't so very unbecoming of a Malfoy, Scorpius would have broken out in applause. As it was he only wished there was a bigger audience.

Scorpius watched as James fidgeted under the gaze of the Ravenclaw, who even unarmed gave off waves of confidence, danger, and cold fury.

"Okay that's it." The pure frustration in Zoey's snapping words startled them all. Grabbing her fellow Ravenclaw by the back of his robes and pulling, she commanded "You need a time out. _All_ of you."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. He'd been relatively well behaved, hadn't he? The fire in her gaze clearly made this an unwise protest to voice out loud.

The Ravenclaw continued to stare James down for a few more moments, then allowed himself to be pulled after his Housemate.

James fingered his wand, covering his earlier nerves with a dismissing scoff as he watched their backs, then turned to Malfoy with a grim expression.

The Slytherin realised this was the first time they'd been alone since Potter had stolen his wand during last year's finals, and was surprised to find his grip tightened on instinct. It didn't go unnoticed, and both wands slowly started rising.

Zoey stopped her march down the hall and whirled back to them, her gaze narrowed accusingly. The Ravenclaw at her side turned with her and also felt the rise of aggression in the pair they'd just left. He waved a dismissive hand in their direction, then grabbed Malam by the arm and pulled _her_ away and down the corridor.

After a moments consideration Malfoy put his wand away, realizing a duel with such a potent wild card nearby was not wise.

Fortunately Potter saw the same logic as he put his weapon away as well, straightening his robes as he muttered "Who was that guy to say all that anyways? What right did he- you know the transfer," James's attention suddenly shifted to the only nearby person and jerked a thumb after the pair. "What do you know about this bloke?"

A bit surprised at even being acknowledged, Scorpius saw no benefit in hiding his lack of information. "Never seen him before."

"Yeah. Yeah, me neither." James straightened his cuffs, then reset the shoulder seams. "Know what that means? He was- he's got to be one of those weirdos Ravenclaw sometimes spits out. Should've known with a name like 'Smith'. What is he, medieval? No wonder he skipped Halloween Feast to read in the Tower. Probably lives in there or the library and never gets out. I'd wager we were his first conversation in days. He obviously has no clue what _normal_ people are like, just look who he spends time with…"

Malfoy listened for a few moments, watching him continue to fuss with his appearance and insult the pair that had left. He felt a soft smile spread across his features as he said "He got to you, didn't he?"

Remembering who he was talking to James straightened and glared at the younger boy. "Don't be daft."

Oh no, there was no way he was letting this opportunity go. "Other than myself, he's the first person you've taken such an avid disliking to. You're usually much more 'respectable', _Potter._ "

"What do you expect?" James attempted to defend himself. "He's a right pain, skulking after me all afternoon for who knows why-"

"Infiltrating Ravenclaw House," Scorpius quoted from the overheard conversation, the words that had all but confirmed his early suspicion at tutoring. That and James's impossible knowledge of what was going in inside Ravenclaw Tower on October 31st, when Thorn had seemingly been there as well. "You and Rose had something to do with the article, didn't you?"

There was once again a pause, but then Potter straightened to his usual standing. "And if we did? What would you do about it, _Malfoy?"_

This time it was his turn to stress the last name, and Scorpius realized with an inward curse he was outmatched before it even began. There was nothing he could do with his suspicions. Nobody could believe a Malfoy over a Potter.

...but it wasn't about Potters and Malfoys this time, was it? Scorpius connected all the factors in this confrontation, pleased by the picture they presented. "You've overstretched your influence, Potter. With a _critical_ mistake. Zoethia Malam is not going to just take this lying down."

"Whassit matter? She's a nobody." The Gryffindor declared with bravado.

" _Exactly._ " Scorpius grinned. Malam wasn't him, or Nott, or Priscilla or Zambini- Merlin, Wainbata wasn't even _Slytherin._ James was trying to turn Hogwarts against someone who wasn't already feared and hated. It wouldn't work. "You're little battle is opening too many fronts for you to handle Potter. If just one piece falls, the rest will follow."

James Potter didn't believe it for a second. He didn't… "What makes you so sure?"

"I have mastered the art of seeing moves through the endgame. Of course if you don't believe me, you shouldn't worry about it." Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy turned away with a chuckle, reveling in the knowledge that all he had to do was sit back and watch Potter's poor strategy fall in on itself.

* * *

"Smith? _Smith…"_ Zoethia Malam scowled and kept repeating the name with greater venom, adrenaline fueled steps taking them far away from spectators. " _Smith!?_ Pressured for a name, you come up with _JOHN. SMITH?"_

Jonovan Malam Orion's Ravenclaw morph was giving way for his darker form, his brown eyes glowing acidic green. He brushed off his shoulder to change his cloak from a student's back to staff apparel, his voice tight. "I wouldn't be too worried about it. I'm about done with that face anyways."

Zoey felt waves of magic pulse dangerously from her cousin, impacting the passive enchantments on the castle torches and portraits as the very air grew charged with his sizzling power. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Jon was unaware of the terror his form inspired, growing inhumanly tall as his fury simmered deep inside him. His hair grew waxy and black as it brushed itself back from an angular face, the eyes flickering between acidic green and obsidian black. With every passing second he looked more and more like a living demon of old.

The people of the portraits were running away, stampeding over each other in their haste to escape. There wasn't time to get to his office, Zoey realized as she saw his nails turn black and start to sharpen themselves.

"This way," she said and pulled him to the closest window. She put her hand on the latch and dispelled the magical lock to push them open, vaguely aware of glass cracking.

Jonovon instinctively followed her, his blood pounding in his ears.

"Give it to me." she told him, then sighed and stepped onto the ledge so she was almost to his face.

Rasputin arrived and climbed up his master's shoulders, his lips pulled back in a perpetual snarl. Still Orion didn't respond, glancing down the halls.

She put a hand on her cousin's cheek to hold his attention, speaking softly despite the warring instincts that tried to make her panic. "Jon, I'm right here- I'm fine. _Safe._ " She tugged gently at the frayed edges of his magic. "No one will see. Please."

The magic between them flickered, hesitating, then Jon's reasoning won the battle and the force of his anger crashed down like a tidal wave. Had she been anyone other than his cherished family it would have promptly devoured her from the inside out instead of singeing slowly.

Zoey hissed as his magic burned through her, feeling instantly that she'd already waited too long to purge it. It had been thoroughly contaminated by his emotions- even now it was leaving a staining touch on the magic she was trying to contain it with.

Oh Rex was going to kill her for this… The Minister of Magic had been explicitly clear not to do this…

His magic shuddered again, and she stopped hesitating. Zoey changed the shape of her magic from a closed loop between them to a funnel centered on her left hand, feeling the mutilated essence shoot from her fingers like a gyser. She hoped it would spread and disperse like mist. Instead it erupted in a magical flame that put Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs to shame. Unable to stop the explosion now that it had been released Zoey could only direct it as much as possible, out the window and far from Hogwarts while gagging at its stench of rotting fruit.

While she tried to contain her stomach Jon breathed a sigh of relief, the tension of his form relaxing as his magic stopped blinding him. He shrank to a normal height, his hair turning blond-brown again and Rasputin settling down his spikes. His normally brown eyes still glowed green as he looked about to assess their surroundings, shocked to realize they weren't in the private confines of his room.

Zoey's own eyes were wide and unseeing, shining a soft lavender as she literally burned the stained magic from both of them until the taste was gone from her mouth. As soon as it was possible she severed their connection with the deftness of a surgeon, lightheaded from the combined powers she'd wielded. She swayed uncertainly on the windowsill.

Jonovan caught her easily and set her down to let her catch her breath, checking her pulse while Rasputin crooned comfortingly. The History Assistant was cursing himself internally. He was aware that investigating had made him unstable, but he'd have been able to control it fine if that Potter brat hadn't insulted her-

"Hey Jon?" Zoey mumbled, on the verge of passing out. "I think I lied…"

His mouth twitched into a smile before he picked her up, making them both invisible with what remained of his power. "About what?" he asked as she closed her eyes, trusting him to take care of it.

"Someone definitely saw that."


	24. Ch 24 Revelations

**Ch 24- Revelations**

* * *

"Malam? Malam… Zoethia Malam!"

The girl sat up in her desk with a jolt, her full name triggering a primal fear of being in trouble. A sheet of her notes had dried on her cheek and blocked the view from her right eye, adding to her confusion.

Finding she wasn't at home and not in imminent danger of being grounded Zoey relaxed, prying the parchment from her cheek and feeling its ink smudged all over her face. She put the sheet back with the others and looked at the person who'd woken her. "Malfoy?"

"Is there a particular reason," he started and straightened from where he'd been leaning over her ear, no longer shouting as he had been. "You decided your Defense Against the Dark Arts class was an opportune time to nap?"

"I didn't," she mumbled, trying to rub the ink off her face and not really surprised by her impromptu rest. She knew she'd been exhausted the whole day, her body craving sleep even as her nose, continuously dripping in a persistent cold from her dip in the lake yesterday, had kept her up half the night. Plus her head was pounding with what she called the 'magic migraine', a piercing pain that throbbed with her heartbeat and did not react well to light. She got it when she and Jon merged their magic for too long, though this time it wasn't the duration but the quantity of magic she'd wielded.

She'd been doing her best not to jump guiltily anytime somebody mentioned the 'fireworks' that most of the school had seen go off last night, which is what Hogwarts was calling the light show she'd accidentally discharged while purging Jon's magic. Thankfully, while many had seen the light none had seen her or Jon- she really needed him to teach her that Chameleon spell.

Public opinion was leaning toward the fire coming from Legacies showing off again or some troublemaking group called 'Sneakers' that she'd never heard about before. Zoey supposed that in a school full of magic, there were a lot more immediate suspects than a supposedly squib transfer student and one of their own faculty. For the first time the rumors about Zoethia Malam were actually benefiting the girl herself. Still, she was caught between worrying about getting caught and someone else getting blamed for something they didn't do.

Zoey Malam was physically exhausted, mentally stressed, magically drained, but even with all that she _knew_ she'd stayed awake through Professor Sybble's lecture on counterspells. It may have taken a whole bunch of sugary candy throughout the day and painful pinching to make it to the end of this last class, but she knew she'd done it. She distinctly recalled hearing the bell ringing because it had made her migraine rise in complaint, and she'd blocked her ears to muffle it then put her head on the desk to avoid lights… oh. She looked up at Malfoy. "Would it help if I said it was _after_ class ended?"

"It would explain why Sybble didn't flay you alive," Scorpius answered dryly.

"Hehe… yeah…" the Dark Arts Professor did have her intense moments, but Zoey still liked her overall. She glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. "I'm late! I need to get to tutorin- ah…"

"You were. Except for the one session you missed, this was the first time you weren't punctual."

"Sorry, I- sorry." Zoey looked at him again, realizing he must have come looking for her after she was missing. "Thanks for waking me. I've been dead on my feet today." It was true- she hadn't even had the energy to get upset at the continuing assaults on her person. She'd been caught in a few more magic pranks and continued to be a target for various projectiles, but today they'd upgraded to sending her hate mail. Or at least the wizarding version of it. Owls would fly to her during breaks and meals and drop a half-dozen letters insulting things from her appearance to her apparently 'slutty' personality that 'toyed with innocent and naive people who didn't know better'. None of the letters came with names but she knew most of them came from Leena's circle of friends. They'd said much the same to her on the lake docks yesterday.

"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" Scorpius suggested, seeing her exhaustion.

She immediately shook her head even as she massaged her temples to assuage her magic migraine. "No." It wasn't anything she hadn't worked through before. She looked up at him hopefully. "But, um, could we go to Dueling Club again?"

He blinked in surprise. "You want to?"

"Yeah!" She grinned, her first spark of energy shining in her eyes. "There were _so many_ spells there I'd never seen; will I learn all of them eventually? And those targets were good too- I liked the way they exploded when I hit them!"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. They- they weren't supposed to do that _._

"Oh and I never got to try that obstacle course! It looks awesome! It's a lot of running and climbing and I'm _good_ at that, so- please? Can we?"

He didn't answer for a moment, making Zoey squirm in anticipation. She still had a half tub of Ice Mice stashed in her bag and she was not above bribing him with it.

"We can." He eventually agreed, gesturing to her stuff in a wordless suggestion to pull it together.

Zoey grinned and piled her notes, except for the one that had been too smudged by her cheek. Opening her bag though she grimaced, finding that her candy had melted and smeared liquid sugar all over her textbooks. That wasn't an accident; it was too cold for them to have melted naturally, and the Honeydukes' Ice Mice packaging was enchanted against normal temperatures. Another score for her many assailants.

She opened a side pocket and put her notes in there instead, not mentioning the problem to Scorpius as they went outside. If he'd noticed he hadn't commented on it either, navigating the halls in silence instead until they got outside.

Zoey shivered visibly for the first few minutes they were outside before she got used to the temperature. She was small, and probably a bit underdressed for the snowy weather, but she approached the dueling club with a smile. "Hi everybody!"

The various members looked at silver-haired girl with amusement, those that could waving politely. Rupert and Nott stopped their conversation to greet them, Rupert's greeting notably more heartfelt. "Welcome back."

Scorpius Malfoy nodded in return, more interested in Nott's surly attitude. He shook his head in a way that clearly suggested he didn't want to talk about it, and Malfoy raised an eyebrow that indicated he didn't care about what his friend wanted, he would be told anyways.

Rupert ignored the Slytherins' silent exchange to focus on Zoey. "As soon as Isabelle gets here she'll take over reffing the dueling pits. Go ahead and get to the targets, I'll look at the rest of your spells soon I get there."

"Oh, um…" Zoey blushed. "That, um, those were all of my spells."

There was a moment of silence as Rupert took in what that meant, then he grimaced a bit. "Well then, as Club President I have to warn you that I can't clear you for dueling in our club."

"Excuse you?" Scorpius interrupted at the sentence, surprised that the Hufflepuff was going back on his word to welcome Malam.

"We need to put people with even skilled opponents," Rupert explained, understanding but dismissing his disapproval of how he ran things. If Malfoy didn't like it he was welcome to walk away. "And make sure everyone is actually capable of dueling with enough skill to mimic a fight without actually harming opponents."

Well. It went without saying that nobody else here was as abysmal at magic as Zoey. She twirled the end of her hair around her finger and nodded, her tone carefully controlled. "Makes sense. I mean, it's not like I grew up doing anything magic; stands to reason that it'll take me a while to catch up."

"Oh, you're muggleborn?" Rupert asked, then smiled. "Me too. Finally, someone who won't be saying 'Merlin' with every other sentence."

Scorpius's eyes widened. Muggleborn? The best duelist in Hogwarts was not only Hufflepuff, but _muggleborn?_ After he got over his shock he realized that hadn't exactly been correct. Rupert was the best duelist in the DDC, but there were still some Seventh Years in the grade ahead of him that were farther along with their N.E.W.T.s. The Gryffindor Head Boy Daniel had supposedly been headhunted to join the Auror Ranks by Harry Potter himself.

Zoey was laughing in agreement with Rupert's comment, smiling again. "I know, right? And they think we're the odd ones for liking electricity. I say they never learned the pleasure of a classic TV show."

"I know; I mean seriously, how have they never even heard of Monty Python? Or The Doctor?"

"Oh my god I know, right? The Doctor is amazing!"

"Doctor who?" Nott asked in confusion, a bit unnerved by their matching grins and the laughter that ensued.

Scorpius wasn't entertained either. But, their suddenly friendly conversation gave him the chance to interrogate Nott. Pulling his friend a few steps aside he asked "What happened?"

"Just- don't freak, okay?- but someone targeted Melissa again today. Zambini found her crying in her room."

His lip pulled back in a silent snarl, mentally cursing whoever the _Scandals_ author was and double cursing him for that Squib article. "I thought they were over with that."

"Not over it," the other Slytherin tilted his head toward Malam, "just distracted. How bad's it been for her?"

… he really had no idea. Malam seemed intent on acting as though it wasn't happening at all. First the incident on the lake, which he still wasn't convinced was an accident, and then whatever was in her bag that had made her grimace earlier. Oh he had noticed that, but Scorpius Malfoy hadn't asked about it. Malfoy's did not waste time by asking questions with obvious answers.

He briefly wondered what would happen if her patience hit its breaking point, then dismissed it as a bad eventuality. It's not like she'd be able to seriously retaliate against her aggressors, at worst they would only escalate to muggle violence. Though, he remembered, her mock-punch at least did have a fair amount of force.

"...well," Zoey closed the muggle conversation with a smile, still amused by Nott's accidental quote. "I'll see you later, then?"

"Oi," Rupert asked in confusion, "whaddya think you're goin'?"

She blinked, a bit hurt. "You said I couldn't be here, so…"

"What? No! Gosh not!" the DDC President shook his head. "Just cuz you can't _duel,_ lass, doesn't mean you have to leave. What makes you think that?"

"Um," she counted out her next two words on her fingers. "Dueling. Club. Seems to make sense, Sarge."

"And what do you think the course and target range is for, huh?" he shook his head. "Honestly, they're not decoration."

She grinned, practically bouncing with her returned excitement as she glanced toward the course. "Really?"

"Really really." He said, then thought for a moment. "Nott. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

The authority in his voice as he gave direction made it apparent why he was nicknamed 'the Sergeant'. The two Slytherin's glanced at eachother, then walked Malam to the obstacle course as Rupert went back to refereeing the dueling pits. After walking her there Scorpius changed his mind and decided to practice at the targets instead, not wanting to be sore for quidditch practice tomorrow- they were scrimmaging Gryffindor over the weekend.

Zoey waved him goodbye, then eagerly listened to the description of the obstacle challenges. She'd asked Longbottom in class today and he'd absolutely agreed one hundred percent that the vines would not be hurt by their spellwork, and so she had no reservations about giving it her best.

"You're gonna walk through it before you actually give it a try. Green vines are just green," Nott described, his serious persona back in full force now that he had an audience "The other colors will either attack or are spell opportunities to shortcuts or avoid obstacles you're bad at. Hit the red ones with jinxes, blue with charms, and yellow with stunners. Watch out for the brown."

"Brown?" Zoey asked incredulously even as stepped into the course, watching Nott climb the viewing platforms so he could watch her progress. She winced when the pitch of her own voice aggravated her magic migraine, but didn't let it stop her. "Brown vines in the middle of dirt and plants, in winter, under a layer of snow?"

"Camouflage," Nott agreed sadistically, waving her on. Her huff of annoyance was amusing, and he was surprised to see her pull off her outer robe and leave it hanging on one of the branches.

He decided to utilize the silence. "So, you know Melissa."

"Who?" Zoey blinked and looked up at him.

"Girl who works with you in the greenhouses. Extra credit for Longbottom?"

"Oh- yeah." She grinned and opened up to the subject. Melissa Goyle had warned her not to tell anyone about their working together, but if this guy knew her already there wasn't much point in that. "We have been since the start of the semester. Professor Longbottom was really nice- we're getting better, too! We've moved on from puffapods to bowtruckles. They don't really like us, keep throwing bark… which is odd, since they grow it on their arms. It's like they're throwing their own skin, which is just- ick. If they weren't plants, that would be kinda gross."

Nott snorted with amusement at the comment, "What did Melissa think?"

"... she said I was the one being gross," Zoey grinned sheepishly, then countered "How do you know Melissa? Isn't she a year below you? I mean she's technically a year below me too, but I don't think that counts since I'm also in classes below her. You two aren't related, are you?"

"Do we look related?"

"Not by blood, sure, but you hang out a lot. You, her, Zambini, Malfoy, and the Slytherin Rep are practically inseparable."

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the Representative at her Sorting Ceremony. "Her name is Priscilla."

"Okay."

He raised an eyebrow at her brief response, his guard going up. "Do you have a problem with Priscilla?"

His tone held a harsh warning, but Zoey either ignored or failed to notice it. "...a bit." She admitted, looking up at him as she walked in the course to walk it before giving it a real try. Then she smiled at his expression. "What, why is that so surprising?"

Nott's face had hardened. "Most people aren't nearly so blunt about it." Or if they were, it was usually accompanied by a spell or prank or at the very least a harsh insult.

"I'm not most people," Zoey shrugged, keeping an eye out for the first obstacle. "And really, how comfortable would you be around someone who'd literally seen inside your head and judged your every conscious thought?"

"Wait- you mean- _that's_ why you don't like her?"

"Well yeah." She paused to consider a rickety plank that covered a pit. "Why else? That Ceremony is pretty much the only time I've been around her."

Nott shook his head, absently watching her cross the bridge with effortless balance. If he was being honest Nott would probably avoid anyone she'd been in _his_ head too. He was surprised by how refreshing it was for his friend to be disliked for something she herself had done, though he doubted Priscilla would ever regret stepping up to Represent her House that day.

He watched her approach one of the spell opportunities, a red patch of vines shaped like a flame. If she took it she'd avoid having to climb a rock wall.

She ignored it without hesitation, and Nott gaped as he realised her hands were empty. "Hold up- didn't you forget something?"

"Huh?"

"Um, your _wand?_ "

"Oh yeah that." She looked behind her, already halfway up the wall and holding it comfortably with three limbs. Her gaze was on the robe she'd left behind, and Nott assumed the missing wand was in its pocket. "Do I need it? I'm just walking the course anyways…"

'Yeah that'? Merlin, no wonder Scorpius was having trouble teaching her anything. He'd never met a witch or wizard who didn't consider their wand a part of their arm. He sent a silent prayer of support for his friend.

* * *

"Care to explain," Priscilla Parkinson asked in a rare instance of impatience, "Why you insist on doing this yet again?"

Rupert was uncowed, folding his arms into a matching stance. "I need to see all the combat spells you may use before I let you duel anyone using our pits. Anyone who uses a spell Nott, Isabelle or I haven't personally vetted during one of our fights is put on immediate probation. Three week minimum suspension, club council reserves the right to kick people out for their conduct. We don't want overinflated idiots waltzing in and getting somebody hurt because they don't have the skill for it."

Scorpius Malfoy, sitting on the fenceline separating the target arena from the rest of DDC, had been watching their exchange for entertainment. It was rare to see someone who didn't bend beneath Priscilla's presence. Plus, if Rupert actually convinced her to perform at the best of her abilities it was sure to be educative. At the Hufflepuff's last comment though he bristled. "You don't think we're skilled enough to duel?"

"I know you think you are." Rupert answered and held his ground, unperturbed by the sudden two-on-one. "But then, so do ten year old's shooting sparks at each other around pillow forts. Everyone here gets combat training from _us_ , mate. No exception."

Priscilla took a deep breath in through slightly flared nostrils. "Do we _look_ like ten year olds?"

He made a show of looking her up and down, smiling. "Not at all."

Despite his agreement Priscilla wasn't pleased with his answer. Scorpius chuckled silently at the idea of Priscilla being pleased with _anybody_ who wasn't giving her what she wanted.

"Plus, we need to find your categories."

"Categories?" The girl asked warily, the idea of it new to her.

"Everyone that comes regularly gets two areas of spellwork to practice: What they're best at, and what they're worst at. Isabelle is the best shieldslinger Longbottom's ever seen, and she finally made a breakthrough on her charmwork last year. Your pal Nott is fantastic at stunners, but it took him a while to get his shielding up to par."

"And you? What is 'the Sergeant' good at?"

"Everything." the Sixth Year boy said with simple confidence that was irrefutable.

Priscilla let out a disbelieving snort. "What a coincidence, Sarge- so am I."

"Really? Let's see, then." His gaze was undoubtedly a challenge as he gestured to the targets, returning to his original intent. After a moment Priscilla stepped up and started firing her spells, listening and meeting his demands for her to perform them under different challenges and swapping targets at his barked commands.

Spellslinging wasn't as simple as point-and-shoot. It took concentration and accuracy, not to mention magical energy and endurance. It was not uncommon for people to perspire and lose their breath, in extreme cases people could pass out from magical expenditure.

Everytime Rupert said her spellwork was 'adequate' Priscilla turned and challenged him to try the exact same performance. The Sergeant met and in some cases outdid her requests, in others he barely passed or missed far worse than she had. It became a challenge for the pair to find something the other couldn't do. It was nothing short of amazing, seeing someone with the confidence to challenge _Priscilla_ and not be intimidated by her reputation or her competence.

Speaking of confidence, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy realized he'd never seen Hufflepuffs leading a group this large before. Let alone leading so well, as Rupert must be to have earned Nott's esteem. Or being the best, with a top record over the thirty-or-so other members of the club. Even with a school year ahead of the other club members, that was an impressive standing.

Yet the tall Sergeant smiled cheerily at the two new snakes walking about his club like he couldn't care less. Scorpius was reminded of the Hufflepuff mascot, the badger, relaxed and unintimidating until provoked. Apparently, the boy gave everyone a fair shake. Same no-nonsense approach, same grueling coaching style, and a unilateral aversion to laziness. Which was why Malam's enthusiasm had earned her the right to continue practicing until her skills improved.

Figuring these tutoring field trips might become common Scorpius went over his schedule in his head. He'd honestly been concerned about balancing his time with commitments to Quidditch, class, tutoring, _and_ DDC- but if Malam was interested in keeping up with this club, he wouldn't have to sacrifice his other pastimes. A fortuitous solution that he intended to continue.

Eventually Priscilla had run out of her assortment of normal spells to show Rupert. She still had quite a few potent curses in her pocket, but there was no way she was demonstrating _those_ and losing the element of surprise against potential enemies. Catching her breath, she looked at the Hufflepuff with begrudging respect. As far as standard spellwork went, Rupert was far above average. She could use him as a decent practice dummy.

"That was great!" Rupert assured with excitement, patting her on the back and resting his elbow on her shoulder. "Haven't been challenged like that in ages. How do you know N.E.W.T. spells already?"

"I'm aiming to graduate a year early." She huffed, catching her breath from last bout of rapid-fire spells. She tilted her head back to catch the cool stream of _aguamenti_ from the tip of her wand.

"I thought that was practically impossible."

Her chest swelled with a pleasant feeling as she simply repeated "Practically."

Rupert grinned, admiration shining. "I don't normally say this, but- Merlin's beard, Pris! You really are good at 'everything'. I'd love to see you in action-"

"Don't call me that," she said calmly, her face falling back into her pureblood upbringing. That small kindle of camaraderie dying in an instant as she became aware of his arm on her person and stepped out from under it. "I've done your test. I'll be back when your duels catch my interest."

Rupert watched her leave, then in a pensive voice commented "I think… I did something wrong." though it sounded more like a question to the remaining Slytherin's trained ear.

After a moment Scorpius decided that it was better to affirm than not, so that there wouldn't be a repeat. He didn't blame the boy; it was mistake that many had made before, but her friends never made twice. "'Pris' is what her mother calls her."

Rupert took that in silently, then nodded. "I suppose I should have asked before using something other than her real name. Well, Malfoy, let's see the rest of whatcha got-" he jumped back into 'Sergeant' mode without ceremony and proceeded to judge the qualities of Scorpius's spells, occasionally giving pointers and critiques as they went along.

During one of their breaks the Slytherin noticed that the targets were progressively emptying, everyone whispering as chocolate frog cards exchanged hands and wrote things down on papers. Remembering that he'd seen the same thing during Isabelle and Rupert's duel, Scorpius asked "Is betting a common pastime here?"

"Hm? Oh, sometimes." he agreed, looking up to notice the exchanges himself. "Nothing serious. It's more an excuse to take a break and watch something interesting. Oi Sam- what's it this time?"

The passing Ravenclaw paused to report "A newbie's about to run the time course her first time- and she's doing it _without_ magic!" before bidding a few of his chocolate frog cards and running to watch the show.

Scorpius blinked, then closed his eyes with a silent groan. That was more than likely Malam. Why was he no longer surprised that she created commotions wherever she went?

"Interesting." Rupert grinned, "Betcha a Knut she'll use magic to finish anyways."

"I wager the she won't even draw her wand," the Slytherin countered and walked with the older student to the obstacle course. He was not one to gamble, but knowing that Malam never used her magic unless it was a last resort he felt this was a rather safe one. And it was only a Knut. He thought for a moment. "I noticed people betting on you and Isabelle the first time I was here. What's your winning ratios?"

"Ah, actually…" Rupert rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "They were betting on how long she'd last. I haven't lost a one-v-one this year."

"Hm." Scorpius hummed, thinking that tidbit would certainly entice Priscilla back to the club. She'd see it as a challenge and an opportunity to reaffirm her combative intimidation. "Wait… does that mean you do more than just one on one duels?"

"Course. We have group competitions every third weekend. Partner duels, two or three against one… like the original DA our DDC is focused on prepping our members for real combat. And opponents don't always fight fair."

Now _that_ was something he'd want to participate in. As they made it to the obstacle course Scorpius made a note to clear his calendar for that day.

It was his first time viewing someone do the gauntlet rather than running it himself. Because of the maze-like qualities of the course, spectators didn't sit in bleachers but rather walked along paths atop the hedge walls. Scorpius found it an interesting experience to walk a maze built above another maze, but at least it meant the warming spells over the course warmed them as well.

"You sure about this?" Nott asked down dubiously. Plenty a club member had attempted to run the course with a limited number of spells- it was actually one of their challenges- but he still felt uncertain about her not even taking her wand.

"Yup!" Zoey grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet, eager to try. "So, anything else I need to know going through here?"

"I'm gonna activate the defenses, so watch out for those brown vines."

"In the middle of dirt and plants, during winter, under a layer of snow…" Zoey grinned and took a running pose at the entrance, waiting for him to start the timer. The spectators chuckled at her comment, having had much the same complaint when they partook.

"Ready, set-" Nott put two fingers in his mouth and whistled to mimic a buzzer, the sound making Zoey wince as it aggravated her migraine. Then she took off at a sprint.

A bit surprised by the speed with which she'd started, DDC just watched her go for a few seconds. "She'll exhaust herself before she's halfway through…" someone mumbled, then someone else cried "I'll bet on that!" and there was another furious exchange of wagers.

Nott was easily keeping up with Malam, as it was his job to try and intervene if the runner was about to get hurt. After a few moments everyone else went to follow.

Zoey barely slowed down at the bridge, using speed over delicacy. She curved the corner and to everyone's shock charged the climbing wall, her momentum carrying her up a few steps before she latched onto one of the handholds and climbed up the last five feet.

At the top she launched forward and then rolled her landing. She didn't even pause as she pulled up into a run, no longer sprinting but still rushing.

The whole club just blinked at her acrobatics in shock for a moment, then cheered. They were surrounded with muttered questions of "Lookit that?" "Awesome!" "Where'd she learn to do that!?" and cries of "Go go go!" as they forgot their bets and became more interested in seeing what she was capable of doing.

Rupert looked to Scorpius and repeated one of those questions. "Where _did_ she learn to do that?"

"She's good at running and climbing," Scorpius repeated her own claim from earlier because he didn't know the answer to the question. He hadn't expected her claim to be baseless, but he thought she'd meant compared to her dismal wandwork. His perpetually neutral tone covered notes of his shock and… pride? Why was Scorpius proud? He was her tutor, but her skills at this were unrelated to their sessions. She was running this challenge like it was nothing, and Malfoys did not take pleasure from the accomplishments of others.

Zoey hopscotched the giant mushrooms, careful to avoid the ones that had mud on them from previous runners. She still slipped toward the end, the wet squelching sound of her landing making her spectators make various sounds of disgust in sympathy. She got up and ran the last few steps, walking out to find that one of her shoes had been lost in the muck.

Hopping on one foot for a moment Zoey tried to see where her tennis shoe had gone, but wherever it was it was thoroughly buried. She reached down and popped her other shoe off before resuming her run. The action earned her more approving cheers from her spectators and an unseen smile from Scorpius.

Nott summoned both lost shoes to him, planning to give them to her as soon as she finished. Even with greenhouse spells warming the course it was too cold out to stay shoeless for long. He summoned a fresh pair of socks.

Scorpius let his nose wrinkle in distaste at the pungent smell that arose from the muck gathered on them, casting a silent _scourgify_ to clear the worst of it off Zoey's soiled footwear.

Zoey continued passing the obstacles with agility and waning stamina, but no magic. As she reached the hardest challenge she slowed to eye the colored patches of wall warily. Iridescent vines slithered along them like snakes, poised to strike at her if she got too close.

Everyone knew what the color system stood for- hit the right color with the right incantation and they would fall limp, releasing their grip and allowing runners to pass without incident. Red were stopped by jinxes, blue by charms, and yellow by stunners. Otherwise the spiked vines would snag clothes and scratch limbs until they could ensnare their targets.

Scorpius knew from experience the most efficient way to cross this section was to run the middle, casting spells to stun the vines that got close. They approached runners from only one wall at a time in a distracting pattern that shifted both spell types and locations.

Zoey Malam, however, was making due by pressing against the opposite hedge from the reaching vines, using the added length to predict their assaults but having to zigzag between the walls to avoid getting ensnared. It was costing her both time and stamina.

The crowd- depending on how they'd bet- was half cheering her magicless endeavor and half taunting her into casting just one spell. It soon became apparent though that no matter their jibes the runner wasn't even considering her magical options, entirely focused on her own body and its position as vine after vine reached for her. Many times she barely avoided getting caught, but her clothes had several pricks holes in them.

She passed a particularly persistent blue vine by ducking and rolling forward, exceedingly lucky to have made it while her back was turned. Sitting for just a moment, she tried to catch her breath.

There was a suspiciously empty section of the course ahead of her- anyone would look at it after facing so many challenges and immediately think 'trap'.

… anyone except Zoethia Malam, it would seem. Scorpius didn't know whether to be surprised or just exasperated that she took the image at face value and ran forward without consideration.

She paid for that almost immediately, a thick brown vine launching itself from the dirt to snag the foot she'd placed near it. Everyone heard her shout of surprise as what she'd obviously thought was just a root took a firm grip of her left ankle, her momentum carrying her forward to fall to the ground.

It was a moment before she got up, instead releasing a grumbling groan that Scorpius recognized from their tutoring, one of the many sound effects she used without reservation. This one was utilized when she messed up something she should have known or remembered already. It made him smirk.

Nott, worried the sound might have been from pain, tried to judge if she'd twisted her ankle in the fall.

Zoey turned over and reached for the vine, wincing as its spikes started biting through her clothes. It was coiling and constricting like a snake, pinning her foot to the ground. While she was doing her best to untangle she failed to notice the other vines that had arisen from the walls until it was too late and one had gripped her around the middle.

She barely had a moment of surprise before more of them rose and Longbottom's plants, as was their way, started constricting her movement like the Devil's Snare it had been bred from. Vines snagged her wrists and pulled them apart before she could reach for her wand, another one going for last free limb- Zoey tried to pull it out of reach, but she was too slow. Her struggles only made the thorns dig in and scrape her skin, but thankfully her signature blue-and-black striped stockings saved her from the worst of it. Though it tore in several places and slid down some.

Gaze fixed on the numerous thorns, Zoey's eyes widened in her first sign of true panic. "Let me go, _let-"_

"Bets in," Scorpius heard from behind him as the wagers were exchanged and Nott prepared to jump down to the course. At this point it would be impossible for the transfer student to draw her wand to free herself, and it wasn't good to tempt the carnivorous plants' instincts by letting them hold someone for too long.

He wished he could say he was more disappointed, but Scorpius was well aware of the course's challenges even with magic to aid him. He was more impressed that she'd made it this far. "Pay up," he mumbled to Rupert, who dutifully reached into his pocket for a Knut.

Zoey growled in a low tone, ignorant of the events on the viewing platform. She didn't even notice Nott approaching her captors with a _diffindo_ already on his lips. "I said, let. Me. _Go_."

One the last word a blinding flash of purple flared, making Nott jump back in surprise and the audience look down again with wide eyes.

Zoey's arms were on fire, burning away the vines that bound them. Living wood cindered like kindling and fell to ashes as Zoey reached down to grip the vine at her leg, purple flames making short work of that one as well. She caught her breath before freeing the first limb that had been caught and rushed out of the area, now hyper-conscious and swiveling her head in case another vine came at her as she left the course via a side exit.

Nott's jaw had dropped, and so had most everyone else's. Scorpius remembered her using those flames the other day, but that was like a candle to a bonfire with the control and strength she was wielding now. ' _Its pretty simple'_ she had said, but _Merlin_ he hadn't known it was even possible to do something like this with bluebell flames.

After a moment Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy realized he was gaping like everyone else and shook his head. Malfoys did not gawk, and they certainly did not do so with an audience. He plucked the Knut from Rupert's loose grip, chiding the Sergeant "See? What did I tell you- no wand." as though he'd known all along her capability to do this, before walking down to join Nott on the field.

His Housemate was slow coming out from his shock, but Zoey had stopped walking and sat down. She looked pale, Scorpius thought with a trace of concern, and she wasn't responding to his presence as he stopped beside her. The royal purple flames licked along her arms for a few more moments, then snuffed out of existence. He half-expected her sleeves to be charred and her skin red, but her skin was as smooth as ever. Zoey's fire hadn't burned anything she didn't want it too.

"Now that," he reported blandly, "was mildly impressive."

Nott snorted.

The girl was sitting against a wall of normal vines, hanging her head between her knees. She didn't respond to the mild complement. "My head hurts," she admitted in a soft whisper that made him think she was sensitive to noise right now.

"Wandless magic'll do that to ya," Nott agreed, setting her shoes down with the fresh socks stuffed up inside them. He pulled a paste out of his robes for the many shallow scrapes along her arms and legs, his touch medical as he started taking care of her.

"Is there a particular reason you didn't use magic sooner?"

"Cheating." she shrugged dismissively, then mumbled "Shouldn't have done that, though…"

"Yeah, you'd have killed the course if you'd been casting from the start." Nott declared, frowning at a long cut on her thigh. "Do you wanna get that one?"

Forced to raise her head from the cradle of her arms, Zoey winced at the light before following his gaze. She blinked rapidly five or six times, then did it again, which Scorpius knew was her 'thinking-hard' reaction. That must be a killer headache.

"Uh, no, I'll just- I'll rinse them off later."

"You're covered in mud and slush, transfer. This'll prevent infection." Nott held up the paste, but she was unswayed.

"I know how to treat a wound," Zoey said with a twitch of her lips as she grabbed her returned shoes, ignoring the pristine white socks inside them to instead tighten her vibrant stockings- mud and tears and all- before standing up. A mild argument took place when she visibly swayed on her own two feet, which largely consisted of her trying to say she didn't need to see Healer Prin and everyone else saying that she really did.

Eventually she consented to being escorted to her Common Room by a Ravenclaw DDC member, with the understanding that if she was not recuperated by the morning the entire club would forcibly confine her to bed rest.

As she walked away Nott turned to Scorpius with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

He was met with the usual perpetual blandness. "What?"

"'Mildly impressive'?" he snorted, the two of them alone enough for a conversation without the risk of being overheard. "Malfoy, hate to break it to you, but you were exceedingly impressed. Even, dare I say, curious and wondering how to do that yourself."

"As if you weren't." Scorpius replied in kind, knowing that was probably the reaction of any ambitious spellcaster witnessing a wandless display like that. He turned the tables on his friend. "Exactly how many flies did you catch while trying to get over your surprise?"

Though his jaw wasn't hanging open anymore Nott still closed it with a snap, then chuckled at his friend. "You're avoiding the point Malfoy."

"Which is?"

"She managed to impress you."

"...and? Your point?"

" _And,_ that's as rare as a pat on the head from Sybble," Nott mumbled, a bit put-off by Scorpius's intentional obtuseness. "You like her."

Scorpius tensed, but he knew Nott well enough to know he wasn't suggesting a romantic entanglement. His friend meant it as a warning. Something liked was something to be lost. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy did not have such vulnerabilities, and he set out to correct the misconception. "I like the entertainment she provides. She always manages to ruffle feathers when she challenges the obvious, and her opinions are… refreshing."

Why did that last word sound more like 'relieving'?

Clearing his throat, Scorpius continued "Plus, McGonagall herself put me in charge of part of her progress. It's good to see four hours of my week paying off. Speaking of-" he checked the time, his tone turning professional. "-we need to get to the library for research."

Nott groaned, then groaned again when he remembered the temporary member of their reading group. This evening would only go downhill.

* * *

Harry James Potter had gotten his request, and already he was regretting it. Sitting down at a large table across from the top researchers in The Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures with Kingsley Shacklebolt at his side, he forced himself to resign to a no doubt boring hour of droning information.

The six Researchers were all either fat, spindly, or spectacled. Harry admitted to himself that they certainly _looked_ more suited to desk work than facing down the magical creatures they studied. He only hoped they were good at their jobs. The Head Magizooligist, a spindly bespectacled man who reminded Harry of Professor Trelawney, took his time setting up his map, enchanted pins and markers ready to highlight sections he spoke about.

"Ze Dementorz," he spoke with a heavy accent, "have been zeen in many areaz zinze zeir ezcapes from Azkeban."

Harry winced internally; this was going to be a long presentation, but he dutifully made notes of the locations and conferred on how to spread their manpower in order to protect muggle and wizards alike from dementor attacks. It was rare for Aurors to be sent on missions with Magizooligists, but dementors were worthy of special assignments. Not all Magizooligists could cast a proper _patronus_ and vice versa for the Aurors, so new teams were quickly formed and assigned. After that was out of the way they went on to try predicting the dementor's next places of attacks, so Harry could reassign his remaining manpower accordingly.

"Zay have been in Northzern Engand most rezenty, but have been zeen zircling a few vooded areaz zuch az Albania. Very unusual sinze zer pray zeems to have been zey stray hiker rathzer zan large crouds…"

Harry narrowed his eyes as the maps seemed familiar. He felt like he'd heard another report with those areas…

"What I want to know," one of the other Magizooligists interrupted the report, her own notes far more extensive with the aid of a quickquill, "Is how they're escaping Azkaban at all."

"Dementors aren't exactly the simplest creatures to contain," Kingsley said placatingly, knowing that if anyone else had made the same statement it would have been seen as an excuse. Being Minister of Magic often meant playing negotiator between Ministry Departments.

Despite his efforts a small squabble about the management and areas of improvement in Azkaban broke out, and it was eventually decided that more staff would be posted there year-round. Kingsley supposed that it was important to keep the number of loose dementors as small as possible for as long as possible, even if their escaping were near inevitable. There was no way to kill them and as they could magically open doors it was hard keeping dementors contained, even in a wizard prison.

The meeting ended and everyone gathered their things, more conversations persisting as everyone went to work on their appointed tasks.

"Zey have indead been akting straenge," the head researcher commented and Kingsley was shocked to see Harry engaging in small talk with the man. The famed Auror usually made a point to leave meetings as soon as possible.

"For how long?" Harry asked as he helped gather the reports.

"Vell, after ze fall of-" the old man gulped, old habits standing true "You-Know-Who, ze dementorz zat served him scatterd. Zay do not normally travel in large packs, zou know. Not unlez zay are attracted to a large amount of dezpair or fear. Zey are usully two or zhree at most, zou know."

"Of course," he agreed politely though he certainly had not known that. Then again, Harry supposed he hadn't really seen dementors outside of the Second War, which was far from normal circumstances. "But they gathered to support Voldemort, didn't they?"

He fumbled and dropped his papers at the name, bending down to pick them up. "Indeed zay- zay have alvays gathered in times of wars and fed off ze dezpairz of mazzes."

Kingsley predicted Harry's next question and answered for the flustered researcher "Nobody knows how they can sense those events arising, they just do. Even with natural disasters they arrive before earthquakes or tsunamis hit, let alone at battlefields." Dementor appearances were logged before even muggle conflicts, and there were many theories about how the creatures _knew_ the events were coming but no evidence.

"Yez, yez," the man had regained his composure by the time he'd reorganized his slides. "But zese areaz zat zey are at now- zey have not suffered any zuch eventz. Vhy zey vould gather in zuch numbers in zuch obscur plazes as _Glausheterzire_ goez beyond all ve know of zem-"

"Glaucestershire?" Kingsley interrupted, suddenly interested. "That wasn't in the reports."

"Oh it vaz yearz ago, before ze firzt Azkeban breakout." He waved off the question. "Nine, almost zen yearz ago zey were zeen over ze forezt. But zat vaz on'y ze vild vonz, non ze vonz from Askeban."

The timeframe stuck them both at the same time, and with barely a glance and hurried farewell Kingsley pulled Harry towards his office.

"North Europe, Albania, - _Glaucestershire!"_ The Minister hissed in frustration as they rode his private elevator, looking over the notes from the meeting. He was infinitely glad he'd chosen to attend this one in person rather than receiving a report, he might not have made the connection if he hadn't been there himself. "Oh I've been so blind- that's the same path It has been taking! Starting with Patient Zero, they've followed the same route at about the same timeframe."

Harry looked over own his notes and agreed. Starting with Zelina Avery and going on along all the cases they knew of at the moment, the dementors were indeed traveling in the same route. It was hard to map the progression of what they were calling Affliction Z- an unnecessarily dramatic name in Harry's opinion, initialed after its first known victim. Zelina.

It wasn't a disease but it most certainly wasn't simple amnesia. There were heated debates as to when to release details about the events, but as it was not widespread the only thing a publication would do at this point is cause panic. Especially when they had yet to find a treatment. Only the top staff of St. Mungo's knew the full details of Zelina Avery's ailment, and knew what signs to check for in other patients.

He frowned as something didn't add up. "But dementors don't cause memory loss… do they?"

"Of course not." Kingsley agreed. "But this is too strong a coincidence to pass off."

Looking at the locations again Harry felt a niggling suspicion at the back of his mind that he was still missing something, but couldn't quite tell what. "What if- what if they're following something again?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well- they followed Voldemort around." Harry pointed out a second time. "And from what I heard they followed Grindewald too."

"There is _not_ another War rising. Thank Merlin." Kingsley added the last two words as a prayer, but knew that their extensive reports hadn't hinted to anything of the magnitude that Voldemort had been. Times were far from perfect, but then there was always a dark organization or two that crawled around the woodwork. "There are no dark wizards of the strength to gather dementors."

Harry nodded his agreement, then tilted his head "...does it have to be a wizard?"

The Minister of Magic stopped and considered for a moment. "I've never heard of them following muggles instead of attacking them, and I've never heard of them following any other species either." he assured as he stepped of the elevator, taking the inevitable stack of new paperwork that was always handed to him upon his arrival.

"Sir-" the courier hesitantly interrupted their conversation, undeterred by the mention of species. He'd known that the Minister's last meeting had been with Magizooligists after all. "Your 2 o'clock is here for you."

"What is it?" Shacklebolt asked, hoping it was another useless reporter he could wave off with a 'no comment'.

"It's regarding St. Mungo's, sir."

"Ah. Well, that shouldn't take long." He'd just be handed a form, sign responsibility for it and carry on his conversation with Potter. Opening the door to his office, though, he was greeted with a rather different sight than he'd expected.

Harry looked around the Minister's shoulder and felt his jaw drop. "Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy snorted lightly. "Of course you'd be here, Golden Boy."

"Manners, darling." Astoria Malfoy reached from her chair to his so she could pat his arm lightly. Then she turned and smiled at the pair that had entered, gesturing to the chair behind the desk. "Mister Potter, Minister- won't you join us?"

By making the invitation to an action they'd already planned on following she gained the power in the room; the Minister couldn't very well _not_ occupy his own desk, and now by doing so they'd followed her direction. Draco Malfoy, very conscious of the mind game she'd just pulled, smiled and kissed the back of her hand; he loved his wife.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at their presence as he moved around them to stand behind his own desk, putting his hands on it by their fingertips for the moment before taking his seat. "And since when, Miss Malfoy, have you been a member of the St. Mungo's staff?"

"Oh dear me no, of course I'm not," she chuckled lightly, a tingling sound of amusement that reminded Harry of sleigh bells. "That was just what we wished to speak to you about."

"'We'?" The Minister prompted, looking that the silent party. "Did you not already file an official request to see me about a week ago, Mister Malfoy?"

Harry admired Kingsley in that moment; he would have choked if he ever had to call Malfoy 'Mister'.

"I did." The balding blond drawled, frowning considerably. "And was subsequently ignored."

"As Minister I do have a great deal more to confer on than a simple matter of medical funds."

"And yet," Astoria said with a note of triumph, "you remember we were asking about medical funds."

"It was unique I will admit." Kingsley sighed even as Harry gave a guilty start. "Is there a particular reason that this is so important for you?"

"Zelina Avery was my classmate." Astoria said simply, though it certainly felt like there was more emotion behind her statement than a simple school acquaintance. Draco squeezed her hand in his as a bit of a warning; it wouldn't be a good idea to show how emotionally tied they were in this.

He needn't have worried- the Minister had lost his air of nonchalance at the news. "You knew Zelina Avery? When- how well?"

Even Astoria's composure was taken aback by the vehemence of his question, then her eyes narrowed. "I do believe I just answered that question, Minister. Is there a particular reason that this is so important to you?"

The Minister frowned as his own question was thrown back in his face but didn't back down. "It's a matter of security. I need to know all you knew about Miss Avery's spellwork and history."

"Security?" Draco choked out, his face growing red. "Avery has been in that hospital for nigh on ten years now and you're spouting regulations about _security?"_

"Your bedside manner, sir, could do with improvement." Astoria lifted her chin to look down her nose at the Minister, the 'sir' doing very little to soften her insult.

"It's true." Harry argued, moving from behind the Malfoys to stand beside Kingsley. "And as Head Auror I demand to know on a matter of internal affairs."

Draco bristled almost as much as his wife. "You think you can order me around, Potter?"

"That's the thing about having a job instead of sitting around my house all day, Malfoy- it actually means I can do something with my life." He refused to back down, but was shocked at the response. A flash of pain went through Malfoy's expression before he looked away, and for maybe the first time in the history of their altercations Malfoy didn't attempt to put a last word in.

Astoria gripped his hand tighter and set her sights on Harry. "I think you will learn very little about anyone who knew Zelina with that demeanor Potter. If you wish to know more about her, the best person to ask would be to ask her brother.

"Brother?"

Kingsley looked at Harry sharply at his tone of surprise. This was the sort of situation that warranted an elbow in the side to induce silence, but as an adult the best the Minister could do was pray that Harry was faking his shock.

"Yes 'brother'." Astoria tilted her head. "Her older brother, three years her senior? Xavier Avery."

The name was pronounced by saying the 'X' before continuing on to the rest of it, and the man himself had been a person of interest for as long as Harry had been an Auror. The majority of the Avery's had been condemned at trial for conspiring with Voldemort, but their heir and current patriarch Xavier had been on other continents for the entirety of the Second War. With paperwork and proof showing he'd been in China and the America's he had been found innocent of any involvement by simple geography, as not even the strongest wizards could apparate across oceans.

Though Harry had known quite a few 'Averys' growing up among muggles, it was a much less common name among wizards. Avery was one of the Sacred 28 Pureblood families, and was more a title than mere surname- one with ties generations long to the largest magical shadow association in operation. Upon Xavier's return to England the substantial Avery wealth and influence had only grown. With the legal arrests of his family the young heir, only nineteen at the time, became the head of all their affairs. It was believed he was not only part of but leading the Avery Organization at this point, and undoubtedly a practitioner of Dark Magic.

Harry blinked a few times, then turned slowly to look at the man to his right. "Surely she does not mean _that_ Xavier Avery."

Kingsley Shacklebolt lowered his head with a sigh. Harry, it seemed, was indeed just making this connection this moment and had not been faking his initial shock. "Yes, Harry, she does mean that Xavier Avery."

If it weren't for the serious conversation it might have been amusing to hear people saying the Avery name so casually- it was usually whispered in dark corners during illicit deals or with rising frustrations by the authorities who continuously failed to find evidence of his illegal transactions. Xavier was tailed regularly as were his known Pureblood contacts, but they never succeeded in catching the man in an illegal act.

"His current occupation, I believe, is 'information broker'." Astoria continued with a note of glee. "I am sure he would be more than willing to tell you what you want to know."

"But perhaps," Draco offered with perfectly practiced innocence, "You are unsure of how to contact him at this time? If you want, we could send a letter…"

"That Xavier Avery," he repeated to this Minister, running over his old rival. "And this did not come up during your explanation- _why?"_

"This is not the time-"

"If Zelina was working together with her brother," Harry continued, speaking as his mind ran forward with the possibility, "Then for all we know she caused this to start! Released it or formed it or- what if her dark magic was what set this thing loose?"

The Malfoy couple glanced at each other, both understandably confused but knowing that to interrupt would be to halt this sudden source of information.

"Harry we have already looked into that possibility, but by all accounts Zelina had been immersed in muggle society for too long to-"

"Xavier Avery is a master of deception and forgery, Minister. He could have falsified everything we know about her! She could be the culprit who started the killings, who- who gathered the dementors in the first place! We didn't even have record of his _having_ siblings. For all we know she was his liaison to Voldemor-"

 _Smack!_ Harry's head jerked to the side as Astoria's white glove made contact with his cheek. She'd stood up and been in motion the instant the man had accused Zelina of being a killer, her eyes doing their best to become a basilisk's and smite Harry with a single look. He froze, unable to believe that had just happened and the animosity now directed at him from the unerringly polite worman. Kingsley's eyes went wide as well. "Misses Mafl-"

"Mister Potter," she ignored the Minister of Magic to speak in a voice little more than a hiss, "You would do well not to throw insults upon a person you know _nothing_ about."

Draco Malfoy was the only person not surprised by her actions. If anything, the image of his wife smacking the 'Chosen One' was a dream come true.

And it was certainly well deserved. "It seems, Minister, that your staff is not very well informed. Allow me to fill in a few blanks-" because while Draco had enjoyed watching his wife's righteous anger, when she became truly angry there was little besides himself that could calm her. Her biting wit might get them thrown out before they could finish playing their trump card. "Ms. Avery vanished after the Second War. After the Battle of Hogwarts, in fact, and no witch or wizard has spoken with her since. Before her disappearance she told Tori that she was done with the wizarding world for good. She would not 'experiment' with any magic, let alone dark."

"And in case that doesn't convince you," Astoria added when she saw Harry about to argue, her ire calming but her gaze still as serpentine as her tone "Zelina Avery despised dementors. She was a natural at healing magics."

He shut his jaw at that. Healing, obviously, was as opposite to the dark magics as one could be. To be good at one meant a horrid skill in the other. "Is there any proof of that?"

"Ask Madame Pomfrey. Zelina was her assistant at one point."

Kingsley tilted his head at the new information, making a note to contact Hogwarts' retired Healer to confirm that claim.

Draco, knowing that a spirit of cooperation was unfortunately necessary, continued. "And, Potter, the reason you didn't know Xavier had a sister is because they are half-siblings. Zelina was a bastard child unrecognized by the Avery tree- but I guarantee," he spoke slowly in the manner of a threat. "That was not a distinction that stopped their personal familial tie. When he catches word that his sibling was attacked by something known to kill its victims, he _will_ launch his own investigation. And considering how hushed you've been trying to keep her condition, I gather that you would rather avoid that."

Harry grit his teeth as he realized his outburst had revealed far more than they had learned.

"So-" Astoria finally reigned in her anger as she sat once more, calmed by the knowledge they held the winning hand, "-would you like to send Xavier Avery a letter explaining everything, or shall we?"

* * *

Rose wasn't sure what to think of this. When she'd come to help Malfoy with his private project, she expected to be alone with him. Instead, he'd brought his Sneaker friends.

At first she worried that he'd set up her up for one of his torturous pranks. But when they all sat down and dutifully buried their noses in the books Rose suggested, she realized they were all here to research. It was frustrating- none of them were speaking to her, instead passing notes with whispers and terribly focused on their work.

After Rose started identifying which library sections would be most useful Scorpius went to get some more fresh parchment, leaving her alone with the four Slytherin's he'd brought. Rose Granger-Weasley tapped her nails on the table, her lower lip stuck out in a slight pout. She hadn't realized he'd asked other people for help. And she wasn't sure why their quiet demeanors were so vexing; she was used to studying in silence.

When Scorpius left to get some more parchment the eldest Slytherin of the group, some girl Rose had never talked to before, asked blandly "Is there something bothering you?"

"No." she answered, looking back down at her book.

"Ah. In that case- could you cease that racket?"

Rose stilled her fingers with a blush, knowing how unforgivably annoying such noise was to a focused mind. "Sorry."

The brief exchange seemed to have opened the grounds for conversation, as one of the boys leaned his chair back on two legs and asked "What are you doing here, anyways?"

"What am I-" he should be _grateful_ she was here to help them. "Scorpius _asked_ me for help, Nott."

"I'm Nott," The other boy accused, gesturing toward the thicker and shorter classmate she'd just talked to. "That's Zambini."

She looked between the two of them and knew she couldn't pass it off as a mistake- they were vastly different in appearance- and looked down with a mumble. "Well it's not like you introduced yourselves or anything."

The first girl sat up with a polite smile, gesturing to each of them in turn. "Since you ask- Thomas Nott, Marcellous Zambini, both in your year. Our younger friend here is Melissa Goyle, and I'm Priscilla Parkinson. Fifth Year."

The Gryffindor's mouth dropped at the names; James was right, _all_ of Scorpius's friends came from Death Eater families! Then she did a double-take at this 'Priscilla', realizing she was the girl James was always warning her to stay away from. In just her First Year this girl had attacked a number of Gryffindors and gotten away with it.

"Do you think you'll remember?" Melissa sounded slightly doubtful.

Insulted, Rose huffed "Of course" and looked back down at her book, glancing over it. After a moment she wondered "Why do you ask?"

"Well," the oldest girl gestured to the two boys, "They've been in your classes for four years, and you still had them mixed up. What would be different now?"

"It- it's- it's not like we ever talked before."

Zambini nodded in agreement. "Well yeah. Kinda hard to do when your family guard dog attacks at even a whiff of us around."

"Who?" Rose asked, her face scrunching. They did not have a 'guard dog'!

"James." They all said in unison.

"One time Melissa helped his sister Lily when she was lost," Zambini scowled, "He got his following harassing her for a month until Priscilla started walking her between classes."

"He- no, he wouldn't. I'm sure that had nothing to do with him. It must have been-" She paused then hurriedly finished. "Somethinelse."

"Of course," Priscilla said placatingly. "It just happened because of her surname, right?"

Four pairs of eyes watched her for a response.

Rose felt her face flame in shame, wondering how this girl had known she'd harbored such a prejudiced thought. "I didn't say that."

"You're not denying it neither." Zambini growled, setting his chair back on four legs with a thud that echoed in the quiet library.

"Either." Priscilla casually corrected him, "Otherwise that's a double negative."

Her calm tone relaxed the situation, making Rose realise the respect she held in their small circle. And she'd done it without yelling or threatening or even _addressing_ the issue itself. It was a stark difference to the conflicts she had with her friends, when her cousins would yell and scream to be heard and acknowledged over the din of everyone else doing the same thing. The thought made her realize that all of her 'friends' were family. Well, except Lorcan and Lysander- but they were practically family. She wondered if this was how 'just friends' interacted.

Realizing they were still waiting for her response, Rose scratched her nose nervously as she tried to explain herself. "Well it's- it's not just my fault. You never made any effort to talk to me either."

"I wonder why," Nott mumbled, the only one still focusing on his books and notes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Slytherin snorted, still refusing to look at her. "Well, when you're not pestering Malfoy you ignore our existence. Walking around like you're some kind of royalty. And when you _are_ pestering our friend you're a right pain at that."

The three other Slytherin's didn't deny it. In fact they leaned back in their chairs, not like they were wanting to get away from the conflict but more like they were settling down to watch. Priscilla's gaze was focused on her fellow snake, trying to understand what his angle was. He wasn't usually this provocative.

"How dare- you take that back!" Rose demanded, getting to her feet to gain the authority that edged her voice.

"Why?" he asked, raising a challenging eyebrow.

She floundered for the reason, and what came out was unbelievably childish. "Because- because… because that was mean and not true!"

"It's true on both sides. You 'Legacies' don't want anything to do with us 'Sneakers', and vice versa."

"I haven't done anything to you," Rose defended, crossing her arms with a huff."

Nott's voice got low and accusing. "That doesn't mean you're innocent."

There was a tense silence, the Gryffindor going visibly pale. "What does that mean?" she whisper-hissed. Nott's eyes narrowed as he curled his lip, rising to match her when he felt a sharp pain on his instep.

"All that is necessary for evil to win is that good men sit by and do nothing," Priscilla quoted, continuing to grind her heel on Nott's foot under the table even as she maintained a pleasant smile. "Forgive our skepticism, princess, but since we don't know you're motives for being here we are prone to question them."

"Course you are," Rose mumbled, but even her feathers were calmed by the Slytherin's graceful handling of the situation.

"And that," Nott mumbled, ignoring Priscilla's renewed jab under the table, "Is why you are a hippocratic, insufferable human being. I wouldn't be _your_ friend if you paid me to."

Rose felt her mouth fall open, wondering what she'd done to deserve such animosity.

He smirked at her flabbergast reaction. "What, is this the first time someone refused your sparkling personality?"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, then she snapped it shut. She was shocked to realize he was right, but wouldn't give them the satisfaction of saying so. Instead she pulled her book closer and waited for Scorpius to get back.

* * *

Zoey's feet were dragging by the time she made it to Ravenclaw Tower, and she was holding the banister with white knuckles to keep her balance. Sam, her DDC escort, was walking behind her with the obvious worry that she'd slip and tumble down the steep steps. Even the Eagle Knocker gave her a once-over before giving them a ridiculously simple riddle to enter their dorm.

It was one of the sphinx riddles she'd read to him at the start of the year, and Zoey answered almost before he'd finished. "A river."

Sam did a double take at her before holding the door open. "Remind me not to challenge you for wits."

Zoey opened her mouth to banter back, but she got assaulted by a dozen owls the instant she stepped inside the common room. Several Ravenclaws looked at her with aggravation as the animals all started screeching and pecking at her fingers for rewards for their deliveries. Feathers flew as their silent wings beat around her, all of them trying to perch on her arms and hindering her efforts to get their treats from her pockets. She yelped a number of times under the assault of their impatient beaks, down feathers flying and catching all over her clothes and in her hair.

"You know," Zoey commented in a trembling voice after she'd finally sent them all away, her arms filled with almost a dozen letters and a small package, "I used to like owls."

Sam snorted, plucking a feather off his own robes. "The curse of being popular, I'm sure."

She wasn't in the mood for witty banter anymore, though she made sure to chuckle at the joke before she took the plush armchair beside Lysander. He grunted a response to her "Hey Sandy", so she knew he was well engrossed in his book.

That was good. Her head was still killing her- her magic migraine was throbbing like a heavy metal band through her mind and Zoey doubted she could maintain an intelligent conversation. She glanced through her letters doubtfully, knowing that her sudden 'popularity' was likely more hate mail. There a few colorful envelopes- probably trying to trick her into thinking they were important- but as they didn't have return addresses she set them on the table next to her. Her guilt would probably make her skim them later _just in case_ one of them actually was important.

There was only one serious letter, which came from Kingsley Shacklebolt. He hadn't used the Ministry seal but signed it by her nickname for him: 'Rex'. He was inquiring about her time at Hogwarts, which she knew translated to 'is everything under control?' She frowned as she thought about how to answer that. Thing's weren't exactly controlled anymore but they weren't _out_ of control… in her opinion. She'd have to word her reply very carefully.

The package didn't have a name on it either but Zoey opened it anyways- which wasn't as reckless as it sounded, because instead of tape the brown paper had been pinned shut by purple-striped murtlap spikes.

 _Private mail, huh?_ Zoey opened the items that could only be from Jon and read his enclosed note slowly because her head still hurt and her thought process wasn't quite up to par because of it. He'd written with a mind to the paper accidently being picked up by someone else- he'd left out the 'to Zoey' and 'from Jon', adding a PS saying 'no need to keep this around- you can throw it away when you're done'. The corner of her mouth twitched at his quirkiness.

In not so many words her cousin assured that she needn't worry about the 'fireworks' last night, that even though though they had no leads he and the other teachers weren't giving up. That was a relief- not that they were investigating, of course, but that Jon was in a position to steer suspicion away from either of them. She knew schools, knew that as much as teachers would want to find the culprit their lives were simply too busy to poke around for long. Zoey had seen many a school crime go unpunished simply due to time.

He also said that, in light of recent events, he'd included some magic-proof locks he guaranteed to do a good job of securing her privacy. Jon was going to start using his own immediately, and suggested she do the same.

Zoey chuckled, knowing that suggestion was as much an order as it was unnecessary. Her cousin, the paranoid genius.

The locks were more muggle than she'd expected, with combination dials. She was setting their passwords when a smell distracted her. She lifted her head with mild confusion as she took a deeper breath. "Is- is something burning?"

In retrospect, probably not the best thing to say around her book-laden friend. Lysander Scamander jerked as though he'd been branded by a cattle prod, pulling out his wand in eager preparation to put out any flame that threatened his House Library.

While Zoey was looking around for a flame Lysander followed his nose to the pile of letters on the small table, seeing the pile with Easter-bright envelopes starting to smoke slightly. He hissed with rare urgency "Zoey, those are Howlers!"

The muggle-raised girl turned to him with confusion, her silver bangs slapping her cheekbones. She'd never heard that word before and certainly didn't know what could cause such dread in her usually stoic companion. "A whoolers?"

Lysander's gaze lifted to meet hers before before her world exploded.

* * *

It didn't take long for Scorpius to return to their study table, and he looked at the tense atmosphere before pulling Rose away to point out the better shelves that they should use for their research. Eager to be away from Nott and his insults, Rose readily pointed out the best authors about magic specialists and the biography sections, giving Scorpius time to write them down. She was interested to see that he was also mapping out the library as they walked, his quill continuously moving.

" _Sorcerers Since the 17th Century_ should give you a good list of names…"

He looked up halfway through writing that down. "Really?"

"Yeah," she took down the heavy album with photos of the people in question. "All the people the Ministry of Magic has granted the title of 'Grand Sorcerer' to since it's founding in… um…"

"1707," Scorpius finished absentmindedly, then chuckled in disbelief. "Merlin's beard, no wonder we kept getting stuck! I forgot to exclude that from our lists."

" _Ex_ clude it? Why would-" she frowned. "Aren't you researching Sorcerers?"

"Not exactly. I'm looking into Sorcer- _y._ " he grinned, his eyes lighting up at the puzzle his next words presented. "I read the term in a book way older than the Ministry title. Made me wonder if it wasn't a school of magic at some point, if 'sorcerers' were like charmmasters or potioneers…"

Rose lost track of his words, too busy watching his reactions. She'd never seen Malfoy this excited, and it was over something _theoretical._ She would have thought such intangible subjects would only bore him. What else did she not know about him?

Eventually he moved on, still adding _Sorcerers Since the 17th Century_ on his list so he could compile the people he shouldn't research. He kept asking more and shared passing comments about the book topics, little things that meant nothing but somehow a lot at the same time.

He really knew his history. Eventually she had to ask "Why aren't you beating me in History of Magic? I mean- you obviously love the subject."

"Not in class," Scorpius's nose wrinkled in distaste, something else that she'd never seen him do before. "The way it's taught is so- so empty, you know? Like we're given an outline instead of the whole painting. Colorless and blank. It's just the idea of what it's supposed to be but still isn't the whole picture. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Rose said, but she really didn't. History was just another class to her, a list of topics to master before the tests. She was blessed with her mother's brains, or at least that's what her dad always said. Ron Granger-Weasley expected her to be brilliant as her mother, something the professors expected as well, so she never let herself be a disappointment. When she got that letter from her mum asking about her first Acceptable of her school life, she'd cried with panic that she'd disappointed them. And then Malfoy had come along and made the whole thing worse by seeing her, and she'd suddenly felt silly about crying in the first place.

"What about squibs?"

Surprised by his sudden question, she looked at him in surprise. "What about them?"

"I'm researching them too for comparison."

That made sense, she supposed- so she let him pick her brain on every related book she knew on that subject, glad her bookworm weekends were paying off. This was her longest interaction with Scorpius Malfoy outside of class. Finally she nodded with satisfaction. "Well, that was the last of it- every good squib or 'sorcery' book Hogwarts has."

"Not quite." He pointed to the infamous gate at the back of the library.

"The Restricted Section? You can't get-"

"Well no _I_ can't," Scorpius immediately and smoothly agreed, "but you have. Unless you expect me to believe that you didn't explore every shelf as soon as McGonagall gave you unrestricted access?"

Rose blushed. "It was prudent to do that for the sake of of knowing what I had at my disposal for tutoring! Not that it helped- I doubt Zoey's skills will ever be anywhere near that advanced. Especially since she's on her own now."

"You're wrong."

"Huh?"

"You're wrong," he said again, keeping her attention as he walked them toward the Restricted Section. He was watching her reaction from the corner of his eye. "She tries too hard to never improve. I may take her some time- well, a _long_ time- but I don't think she'd ever give up."

"...you sound impressed," Rose murmured in shock, outside the door to the Restricted Section. The pass Headmistress McGonagall had given her at the start of the year let both of them through without question.

Scorpius Malfoy twitched as her statement echoed Nott's, swiftly moving to rectify the misconception again. "Determination like that is rare. We don't even put in that much effort, did you notice?"

Rose didn't answer, pretending not to have heard as she gave him the second tour. Scorpius may not have realised but she did work hard- her grades were not natural, they were the culmination of many sleepless nights and sacrificed social outings. Rose had to grudgingly admit though that she didn't have the same enthusiasm as her ex-pupil. She couldn't imagine Zoey just giving up on something either. That girl was likely too thick-headed to even consider it.

...and apparently that was something Scorpius liked about her. It made Albus's warning echo in her head again, saying that her long-standing crush was starting to like Hogwarts' newest occupant.

She shook her head. So what if there was one thing about Zoey that Scorpius liked? Rose was certain there was a lot more about herself that Scorpius should like. Like- like her grades. She was smart, so he wouldn't get bored.

Then she remembered Nott's comment about annoying them all with her constant competition against Malfoy and realized she'd probably ruined that quality. Okay then, well- Rose was pretty. Everyone always complimented her green eyes, and her hair- well, Rose supposed the rest of her family had the same red hair but it looked good on her! And, um…

Rose Granger-Weasley was horrified to find that next on her list of good qualities was her family, something Scorpius certainly wouldn't find attractive. As a Malfoy, Scorpius wouldn't want anything to do with most of her family.

She hurriedly moved on to face the problem from another angle She'd known Scorpius Malfoy for four years and had had a crush on him for three. This was her real advantage. She undoubtedly knew him better than some transfer that just started a few months ago. Her feelings were deeper and real. She liked Scorpius because she knew better than anyone how witty and smart and attractive he was.

Her steps slowed. But- but that couldn't be all she liked about Scorpius. There were a lot of attractive guys at school- her Housemate Daniel the Head Boy, for example. He had always made time for her, why didn't she like him instead? And if she was interested in smarts, Lysander Scamander was the genius of Hogwarts and they'd been friends for years. And- 'witty'? That was just their arguing when she tried to pull him into a conversation only to inadvertently put her foot in her mouth when nerves got the better of her. And he never let her get away with it either, something only he ever did. Anyone else would nod and agree without complaint to whatever she said.

"Oh." she said aloud as she finally solved the puzzle. She liked Scorpius because he treated her like a person, one with faults that could be wrong like any other human being. That was odd, she thought passingly. Didn't _most_ girls want their crush to treat them like a princess?

"What?" Scorpius looked up from his diagram, thinking he'd missed her saying something.

"Um- well, it's just-" she cast about for something to finish her statement that wasn't _I-just-realized-why-I-have-a-crush-on-you-and-it-doesn't-make-sense._ "-why did you set off that explosion last night?"

"What explosion?" Scorpius frowned, with no idea of what she was referring to. Unless James had had some sort of mental fit in her Gryffindor Common Room- that he would gladly take credit for.

"You know, the Whiz-Bang fireworks? A whole bunch of them were set off last night; everyone saw them. It was purple and green and black…" she trailed off at his look of incomprehension, muttering "...everyone's saying it came from the Slytherin Tower."

Malfoy closed his papers into a spiral with a snort, finished with his intel gathering. "For your information, Thorn, Slytherin doesn't have a 'tower'. Our dorms are under the lake. We can't see out let alone open our windows unless we want to sleep with the fishes."

Yet another thing she hadn't known about him. Rose kept her mouth shut and just followed him back to the back table his friends were waiting at, not wanting to say something even worse. Bloody hell, Rose swore internally as she realized she didn't just say mean things around Scorpius, she said mean things _about_ him and his friends. A lot, it seemed.

...that was something Zoey never seemed to do. For all of her incessant ramblings, they rarely if ever held an insult or cruel opinion. Her gut twisted uncomfortably and Rose felt a sinking dread fill her as she finally understood what the emotion was, and how it had fanned her dislike of Zoethia Malam.

But no, if she could ignore an emotion as fickle as guilt she could certainly forget about this one as well. Shoving her problems and the transfer student entirely from her thoughts, Rose Granger-Weasley dove into research.

* * *

Zoethia Malam prided herself on being a swift thinker, on reacting quickly to any crisis and taking charge when the average person became blinded by surprise and panic. But when her letters- _Howlers_ Lysander had called them- burst into flames, she'd fallen out of her chair in her shock and found herself all but petrified.

She could only tremble on the soft blue carpet as the flames rose from the half-dozen papers that burned far longer than they should, the grey smoke rising to form smooth yet mocking masks that shouted the insults she'd been reading for the past week to her entire House. Their yells bounced off the walls and vibrated the shelves, knocking over a few precariously balanced book piles.

" _ **YOU'RE A LIAR!"**_ cried a voice she recognized, " _ **HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ALBUS-"**_

The ranting was cut off by another voice rising from one of the other Howlers, saying" _ **-WHY DID YOU EVEN COME TO HOGWARTS? GO BACK WHERE-"**_

And another " _ **-TWO TIMING WITCH TAKING ADVANTAGE OF-"**_

" _ **-THROWING YOURSELF AT SOMEONE WHO OBVIOUSLY ISN'T INTERESTED-"**_

" _ **-JUST LIKE A SLYTHERIN-"**_

" _ **-YOU'RE A SQUIB, STOP WASTING OUR PROFESSOR'S EFFORTS-"**_

" _ **-SKULKING AROUND AND TRICKING EVERYONE-"**_

" _ **-MANIPULATIVE BRAT THAT NEEDS TO LEARN-"**_

" _ **-NO ONE**_ **WANTS** _ **YOU HERE, TRANSFER! LEAVE-**_

" _ **-HOW DID YOU EVEN WORM YOUR WAY INTO RAVENCLAW, YOU SNAKE?!-"**_

" _Silencio!"_

…

The ringing silence echoed in her ears along with the many voices, and Zoey realized that at some point she'd squeezed her eyes shut. Her throat was tight and tears loomed threateningly in her moist eyes as she cracked them open to see Lysander standing up from his seat. His wand was pointing and maintaining a muffling barrier that silenced the insults but did nothing to prevent the image of the mocking, sneering Howlers from burning themselves back into Zoey's mind.

"Are you alright?" someone asked softly, making Zoey spin around to see her entire House arising from their couches and tables to slowly make their way to her, Ravenclaws even descending from the dorms, having heard the Howlers even through the stone floor. Everyone circled her cautiously but keeping their distance- like she was some kind of injured beast. Sam, the DDC member who'd walked her back to their dorm, was the person who'd asked.

"Yea- yes," she cleared her throat between the words, standing up with effort and making sure to smile. Her voice still trembled a bit. "I'm fine, I just have a headache. Those certainly didn't help- sorry they bothered your studies, I would have tossed them out the window if I knew they did that. What did you call them, Sandy? Howlers? More like Screamers I think- how do they work? Did they all have to shout into their letters to make it sound like themselves?"

"No, they just write it down." he said softly, as though wary of her aforementioned headache.

"... that really doesn't make sense, then." Zoey chuckled lightly and shook her head, though she couldn't pull her gaze away from the still-burning letters that continued to mock her silently. "Then again, I suppose magic doesn't always do that. I wonder who sent them- they weren't very smart, sending them all at once. At that volume I could barely tell them apart."

Lysander looked at her from the corner of his eyes, then nodded. "It wasn't a well thought-out plan on their part, no."

"And what are we supposed to do about this?" Asked a clinical voice from the other side of the crowd. Ravenclaw Tower parted like a proverbial Red Sea to reveal Head Girl Emmaline Wilkes still settled at the table she'd been sitting at when the chaos had arisen. Her quill was poised in her right hand as she continued speaking, curling lazily as though she were writing the words she presented. "Someone just disrupted our Tower, Ravenclaws. What will we do?"

 _Disrupted their…?_ The odd statement finally inspired Zoey to pull her gaze from the jeering Howlers, looking at her older Housemate. She'd tried to avoid Emmaline Wilkes for the most part because of the Sorting Ceremony, so Zoey didn't know her Head Girl and Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain very well. Certainly not well enough to know what that statement was supposed to mean.

"Have you sent for the Professors yet?" Lysander asked his co-leader of Ravenclaw dorm.

"A First Year is on his way."

"Good." The Howlers had finally burned out and finished their assault. There were now scorches on the small table and carpet, still smoking slightly. His job done, Lysander sat back in his chair and picked up his fallen book, brushing off some stray smudges.

"Um-" Zoey looked between the two seated Ravenclaw leaders, faculty intervention not needed or wanted in her opinion.

"First infraction- the Howlers," Wilkes was saying, writing that down. "Those are illegal for Hogwarts students to send to other students and this certainly broke that School Rule. Anyone opposed to seeing them punished?"

She was met with silence, only punctuated by a slightly louder "Umm-" from Zoey, who was still reeling from the Howlers and this sudden shift in atmosphere.

"All agreed then. What else?"

"What about what they said to Zoey?" Sam piped up. "This obviously wasn't the first time."

"Reasoning?" Wilkes asked.

"I saw her face when she got them." the DDC member attested, "she wasn't surprised, just annoyed. Though judging from her response these're probably the first Howlers she's ever seen."

"They were, actually." Zoey said in a soft voice. "I really didn't know-"

"First time means first infraction..." The Head Girl made a note of that to report it later. "And are you proposing we retaliate for the assaults on her person in a more personal manner?"

"Yes."

"That's not nec-"

"Any opposed?" Wilkes cut off Zoey's protest and looked around the room, then pointed her quill-feather at one of the people who'd raised their hand. "Reasoning?"

"Well-" said a nervous voice Zoey didn't recognise, "I mean- what if the Howlers were right? Then they'd just be trying to right a wrong, and- granted- while the Howlers had excessive hyperbole for effect, I certainly wouldn't want to _defend_ someone as deceitful as they claim Malam is. Until we know I don't even think we should have Professors punish anybody."

"It is my top priority to ensure that my entire House can pursue their lives and studies in _peace_ and _quiet._ The Howlers will be punished." Wilkes admonished, "However the rest of your point still stands- does anybody else feel that reservation?"

More hands rose in the air this time. Zoey's spirit dropped in the opposite direction.

"... very well." She made a quick headcount for voting purposes and decided they were close enough to split to warrant a debate. "What are the testimonials as to her character?"

"My-"

"Well we can't ask _you_ anything," Wilkes chided Zoey's offended tone. "That would be the very definition of 'biased', of course."

"How about the critiquing the accusations first?" Micheal- one of the more avid Halloween pumpkin carvers- piped in. "A lot of it is circumstantial, and there are almost too many illogical fallacies to count."

"Circumstances that could have been avoided if she were more forthcoming," someone countered. "There's no denying that she's hiding something."

"Doesn't everyone have-"

"And seriously, look at this." Sam pulled out a copy of the article, all the Ravenclaws immediately swarming around it and highlighting sections. "Look at all the Oxford Commas!"

"What's wrong with the Oxford Comma?" Christine Creevy, who'd been silent until then, chimed in with a defensive tone.

"It's redundant!"

"Can _anybody_ hear a word I'm saying?" Zoey asked with a note of desperation, her first uninterrupted statement. Yet it still went unacknowledged. Her shoulders slumped as her Housemates became engrossed in a debate, an event that could go beyond a few mere hours to days or even weeks in Ravenclaw Tower. Especially with this many participants.

Only this time, Zoey realised, they would all be doing it without her. That hurt almost as much as their refusal to let her defend herself. She bit her lip and closed her eyes against looming tears, then yanked her perfectly straight ponytail from its tie.

Taking a deep breath Zoey redid it's tight binding, the ritualistic motions soothing her and letting her think again. She turned and picked up the locks Jon had sent her, slipping them into her pocket and looking at the pile of cinders that the Howlers had made from the rest of her mail.

Rex's letter had been in that pile. Zoey pinched the bridge of her nose, then decided she'd have to reply to it some other time. It would be easier to claim a controlled situation when she didn't feel like she was about to scream.

"Later Sandy."

"Hm." He looked up from his book as Zoey left their Tower, recognising that she was hurt and considered his options before correctly concluding she probably wanted privacy right now. Lysander Scamander looked at the debating group with more pity that disappointment. A near universal Ravenclaw fault was a lack of social aptitude. Somewhere along the way of scholarly pursuits they simply forgot how to interact with people.

Zoey was no exception- she could be annoying to the point of belligerence, after all.

…In a moment of clarity Lysander realised he was thinking this from outside the group of his Housemates, from a chair he spent several hours reading in on a daily basis and hadn't left but once all afternoon- and admitted to himself that he wasn't much better.

Then, in typical Ravenclaw fashion, he decided that his book was more pressing than what might be a persisting character flaw. So Lysander opened said book, flicked another speck of soot off the page, and went back to reading.

* * *

Albus Severus Potter had come to a series of Realizations.

Firstly, he _had_ indeed forgotten to actually tell Zoey their Hogsmeade trip had been a proper date. This was first because it was most important.

Secondly, he had also forgotten to tell _everyone else_ that it was _not_ a proper date. Which had become a serious problem after the newest _Scandals_ article came out.

Thirdly- and he realized this because of said article- he didn't know Zoey Malam very well. He didn't believe the article but he also believed his own eyes. He believed that was Zoey in the picture and that was Assistant Orion as well, yet he didn't know how they knew each other outside of school or have a single rebuttal for the many girls that kept coming up to him expressing their _deep_ est sympathy that he'd been 'two-timed by such a manipulative liar'.

That had been the first time he'd ever gotten mad at Leena, telling her Zoey would never do such a thing to anyone and that she should mind her own business as far as dating was concerned. His words actually seemed to have hurt her, Albus reflected sullenly and banged his head on the table for self punishment. He'd have to apologize for that later.

All of this led to Realization Number Four: He should get to understand Zoey better. Unfortunately, she hadn't been around much lately. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her. But- _but!-_ Albus realized there were other ways to understand a girl. He just had to _think_ like a girl.

… which, being a boy, admittedly didn't seem possible. He had mastered the art of thinking like lost shoes, missing homework assignments, and even ghosts- but girls? Albus didn't even know where to begin. So- _so-_ he admitted he should probably get some help from someone more knowledgeable on the subject. Which led to THE MOST embarrassing decision of his life.

Lily Luna Potter- a 100% confirmed girl and therefore More Knowledgeable by default- smiled as she looked at her brother over her dinner. "Did you want something, Al?"

He groaned and banged his head on the table again. He was asking _his little sister_ for advice. Albus Severus Potter had his Fifth Realization.

He would never live this down.

* * *

 _... oh I love Albus. Thanks Grey Eminence for reminding me that I needed to write his character some more!_

 _E_


	25. Ch 25 Now You See

**Ch 25- Now You See**

* * *

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy had an air of undeniable satisfaction as he walked back to the Slytherin Common Room, one which Thomas Nott couldn't help but be frustrated with. They walked side by side, their steps even. Though Malfoy might look smaller at a glance the blond was actually the same height; Nott knew it was his shoulder-width and muscle that made Malfoy seem smaller.

Their group had separated, Rose leaving first. Then Priscilla- whom Nott felt was disappointed by his goading- had left as well. Melissa had immediately followed, still nervous about leaving the older girl's side. So- of course- Zambini had offered an awkward excuse and hurried off after them. Nott was waiting for the day those two finally got together, the puppy love between them was almost sickening.

If he had noticed it, Malfoy had undoubtedly as well and likely had a few plausible scenarios about how to get the pair together. If the blond ever stooped so low as to play matchmaker. The phrase 'when hell freezes over' went through Nott's mind.

"You're doing it again." Malfoy said without looking up.

With a grimace Nott stopped the compulsive snapping of his fingers. When upset or thinking most people tapped their foot, rolled their fingers, tugged on hair, bit their lip- for Thomas Nott, it was snapping. He was talented at it, he could snap his ring, middle, and index fingers in a single cascade, but a nervous tic was a nervous tic so Nott was trying to break the persistent habit.

Stretching out his fingers, the bulky Slytherin continued deciphering his craftier friend's plan. "It always amazes me, how well you keep your composure around the people you hate."

"I do not 'hate' Rose Granger-Weasley."

Nott tried to digest the statement before continuing. Malfoy did not hate very often, he was very stingy with his efforts and focus. Few things made the list- and even fewer stayed on it for long. He'd seen Scorpius Malfoy take a very active approach toward eliminating the things he hated from his life.

He had been mostly certain that the Legacies were the only persistent thing that Malfoy had decided to hate. Just as he was equally confident that he was on the equally selective list of things to trust. Very few things reached that level of esteem for Malfoy- even his friends. The only thing Nott was sure Malfoy trusted was his own wand.

Which was why it was even more vexing for Nott to see Thorn swing so easily from standing as an enemy into their inner circle. He growled under his breath "We should be ratting out the Legacies."

Scorpius didn't respond, waiting as usual for Nott to continue. He always waited to hear his companions finish their thoughts before responding with his own reasoning on the matter.

"We know Rose broke into Ravenclaw Tower. I don't know why we bothered inviting her to the Library instead of just reporting it." He popped his knuckles as he shared the crux of his problems with Scorpius's current plan. "We're making fine progress with the research on our on, and an opportunity like this won't last forever. You need to weed the Devil's Snare while there is still sunlight."

"You're _pleased_ with the progress?" Scorpius immediately stopped, a theatrical display Nott knew was only ever done for the effect. Inevitably accompanied by raising a blond eyebrow.

"I'm not _dis_ pleased."

"Very well, I will not press the issue." He resumed walking, "For now we still need her to get access to the Restricted Section. Unless you want sneak back in without a Feast to cover our late-night escapades?"

"Point taken," Nott agreed, relaxing as he realised there was purpose to the sudden shift in Rose's standing. A means to an end. "But I thought she only had access to the Restricted Section because she was tutoring Malam? Didn't she quit?"

"Why do you think I said 'for now'?" the teasing undertone was amused. "McGonagall might give me the pass when she finds out about Thorn's resignation, or she may not. All the more reason to capitalize on the time we have left."

Nott grunted, glad that Scorpius was still thinking analytically. He would be glad when they could kick the girl out of their group again- four years of classes and she didn't know him and Zambini apart.

Scorpius put the binder with his library information away, setting an analytical gaze on his larger friend. "I take it you said something to her?"

"Just poked the lion a bit, nothing more. She doesn't know that we know about her breaking the rules." Nott shook his head in disbelief, reluctant but admitting that he'd been unable to replicate his friend's train of thought by asking more openly "Remind me again why we're not planning to lynch her for writing that article?"

"Because she knows the library better than any of us and she's conceited enough not to ask why we're asking," the young Malfoy answered in a tone that made Nott feel like a child even though they were the same age. "Plus, she didn't 'write' it- _Scandals_ is too flowery and not enough of an essay to be her style. As I said yesterday she likely just facilitated it."

"But sneaking into another house and _thieving-_ Malfoy, that is Gold." Nott stressed, still shocked Scorpius was discarding a rare chance to show that the Legacies were not as righteous as Hogwarts made them out to be.

In another superior mannerism Malfoy shook his head lightly and patted his friend's shoulder. "We won't need to tip our hand in this one. There's so many other players it will all come to light soon enough."

"Rose might slip if we rattle her- it's easy enough," he offered his idea, remembering how simple it had been to rile her at the table. That girl would crack under even a smidgen of pressure.

"Sure, but not enough to actually change her mind. Those Weasleys are a stubborn lot, and Granger in particular doesn't admit to being wrong. There's no point in trying to change someone like that."

Nott felt his eyes narrowing in contemplation at something that bothered him about the statement. "Who said anything about changing her?"

The blond's next step was slowed- subtlely, but slowed all the same.

Nott knew that subtlety meant sincerity from his lean friend. He felt a thrill of success as he pressed his advantage. "So you've considered trying to change Thorn before?"

Malfoy walked on for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed slightly as he admitted with a trace of annoyance around his apathy. "Rose has potential- but she's such a child."

Deciding to employ one of Maloy's tactics Nott bit his tongue to hold back his reply. The silence dragged on as he digested the statement. He had never considered Thorn's capabilities as anything other than hindrances.

"If a Malfoy puts time and effort into any action Nott, it is to produce results." Malfoy stretched his neck and looked forward again. "We could talk to her till we're blue in the face and maybe two words would penetrate her Legacy mindset."

"Can't deny that," The dark haired boy agreed and moved off the subject, knowing a lost cause when he heard one. The person he was referencing wasn't Thorn anymore- Malfoy lived by a rigid set of not morals but personal standards that had been polished by his pureblood upbringing. Any reminder of his own last name and Nott had seen Malfoy set aside any personal strife to pull himself back into the productive, confident demeanor he was known for. Something that only he and Priscilla shared in their group. Nott was envious of that. "But that still doesn't explain why you want me to sit across from that brat and act like we're bosom buddies. Do you want her and Priscilla to share tea and crumpets next?"

"If it gets us what we need, then yes. She knows the library better than anyone and until we know every plausible book we need to learn about…" his eyes looked around subtly but efficiently, "squib and sorcery, I need you to not drive her away."

In other words, Malfoy was trusting him not to mess up. Nott knew he was the only person in their group that had been told about Rose Granger-Weasley's possible tie to the _Scandals_ author, someone they'd been after for years. The author had done much against Slytherin that had to be accounted for, things that made even their refined blood boil and while they both knew that Priscilla was the better strategist the older girl would have started investigating solo.

Nott knew that on some level this was a test to determine the limits of his own temper. A sign of trust that had been four years in the making. He squared his shoulders in acceptance of the challenge before him. He still didn't completely see the larger picture that Malfoy was painting, but Malfoy had never steered Nott wrong before. "I'll do my best."

Scorpius Malfoy examined his friend for a moment and then nodded. "It won't be for much longer- that Devil's Snare will weed itself. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy had no idea what he was talking about, James Sirius Potter scowled in the early-morning hours of the day. None at all. The Slytherin's words had been going through his head for _days_ now, with no end in sight. Keeping him from a proper night's rest and distracting him at the most inopportune times. He'd even snapped at Albus again.

 _You're usually much more 'respectable' Potter._

Scorpius Malfoy, however, wasn't the reason he was up before the sun. No this was actually a normal rising for the eldest child of Harry Potter, sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room and awaiting for his early edition of the papers. He sipped a cup of tea as he waited. The rest of the school would have to wait until breakfast to discover the news of the day, but James paid extra to have a copy of the papers delivered to him a few hours early, by private owl and direct to his Common Room.

He would read the news and know all about the newest gossip by the time he walked into the Great Hall, as he did every morning, and he would go to all his classes, as he did every day, and his Professors would all adore him- as they all always did.

 _If just one piece falls, the rest will follow._

James scowled, pouring himself another cup of tea. Since when was did that snake fancy himself a tactician anyways? Scorpius Malfoy was just a bigoted carbon-copy of his jobless father that attempted to continue a reign of torment against all of Gryffindor. He just said all that stuff to make himself sound smart- had no idea what he was talking about. Besides, even in the miniscule, incomprehensibly _slight_ possibility that something did go wrong James had more support than Malfoy could even dream of.

… _You've overstretched your influence, Potter. With a critical mistake…_

The young Death Eater was just trying to rattle him, James decided. He was probably lying about not knowing that Ravenclaw too. The one that-

 _-got to you, didn't he?-_

-one that had been in Ravenclaw Tower instead of the Halloween Feast. The weirdo.

A tapping at the window brought him out of his musings, and he got up to lift the latch for the owl that delivered his morning papers just as the stars started to fade.

Once glance at the paper's headline made his worries about Scorpius Malfoy fade and a feirce grin rise to his face. His shoulders straightened from their slump as he read the headline article with a frenzy, skipping over words in his haste to absorb everything but his spirits soaring at the news.

When he finished he settled back and stewed over his tea for a few minutes, letting the steam clear his nostrils. Then James read it a second time to memorize all the information before heading up the stairs back up to his dorm to change into his robes, humming merrily.

Lorcan Scamander sat up from his four poster bed, his hair jutting out in all directions. The twin cast a bleary eye out the window- where the sun was just starting to rise- and asked "What's got you so chipper?"

Smiling, James tossed the paper in his friend's lap before pulling out his robes, freshly pressed without a single crease. "See for yourself."

"Really?" Lorcan grabbed the paper, curiosity piqued. James Potter was proud of his early _Prophet_ deliveries and rarely shared the news, instead waiting and watching everyone else catch up as they read about events at the normal time. Lorcan didn't think he'd ever shared before.

"Go on. It's worth it." The eldest Potter promised as he went to his mirror, running his fingers through his dark locks in an attempt to style his hair. Much like Albus and his Father, James's hair was stubbornly resistant to hair product and combs. Unlike the other male members of his family who lived with perpetual bedhead, James's hair would fall straight to his ears if he didn't take the time to energize the boring style in the mornings.

When he turned back around, Lorcan was openly gaping at the paper, reading aloud " _Muggles_ in Malfoy Manor?" and waking their other dormmates.

"Oh yes."

"What, were they kidnapped?" Lorcan asked him, thinking of no other reason their magicless counterparts would we found in the home of a Death Eater.

"Why don't you just read it?" Abrams, their roommate, said groggily even as he started getting up.

Scanning with a speed almost worthy of his twin, Lorcan quoted aloud ' _when reporters got to the scene, no less than twenty-four muggles were gathered on the grounds of Malfoy Estate. All were baffled by the large mansion that they thought had been built overnight'_ …"

James snorted. Muggles, really. As if that was possible without magic.

"What, so they weren't actually _in_ the Manor? That's misleading…" Lorcan grumbled as he continued scanning, then his eyebrows shot up his forehead. " _Investigations suggest that there was a break in on the night in question, during the course of which the protective barrier hiding the century-old Estate was_ broken-'!?"

"Merlin's beard," Abrams swore, thoroughly interested now and going to read over Lorcan's shoulder. "How accurate is this?"

Wizards had grown weary of trusting casual articles since the Prophet had been corrupted during the Second Wizarding War. But Lorcan tapped a name and shared "Lee Jordan's the author."

Humming his approval of the source, he asked "Do they know who it was?"

"Hold on- hold on… no. ' _Reporters have limited access to avoid attracting more Muggles and contaminating evidence... Draco Malfoy has not yet entered a report of theft…_ Aunt Hermione's not gonna like that…" As a Wizengamot Lawyer she was infamously strict on paperwork. Uncle Harry complained about it often.

"She's already there." James flipped the page and tapped a picture of the entrance that had been swarmed by curious spectators. In the corner Hermione's signature hair was talking to Muggles with a few Aurors at her side.

They made noises of continued interest and kept reading in silence.

He put round glasses on his face, tilting the frame to the side before walking out the dorm to go to the Great Hall. James didn't want to miss Malfoy's face when he saw the morning paper.

* * *

Albus Potter was running his hands through his hair again, though at this point he was beyond worrying about its frumpy mop and more about Lily's Plan. He was pacing in front of the barrel entrance to Hufflepuff House, too nervous to go to the Great Hall on his own this morning. Things were still awkward with Rose, and James… Albus snorted. James wasn't even an option, so that left his yellow-robed cousins.

He got quite a few strange looks from leaving Hufflepuffs. Albus belatedly realized that most students didn't want other Houses knowing where their Common Rooms were. It was an old thing about Hogwarts, even though his Father had managed to visit all the House Commons except this one by the time he'd graduated.

Albus had always believed that was because Hufflepuffs practiced more common sense than the rest of Hogwarts.

Finally one of the barrels opened and Lily crawled out the tunnel behind it, Hugo right behind her. The two were halfway through dusting themselves off when they realized they had a visitor.

"Albus?" Hugo blinked at his older cousin. "What are you doing here?"

The Potter boy shifted his weight nervously. "I just- you know- wanted to walk to breakfast together and, well… yeah. Family time, 's all..."

The blessing and curse of a close family is knowing when each other is lying, and knowing when they know that someone's hiding something. This was one of those times, as the two Hufflepuffs easily saw through Al's bumbling and Albus, horribly aware of his inability to lie, hoped against hope that they'd been hit by a confusion charm or something because that was the only way they hadn't seen straight through him.

"Really? That's it?"

"Yup." Al's voice cracked with adolescence on the word, and he scowled when he saw Hugo's amusement. He silently swore to tease him back when puberty hit his younger cousin a few years down the road.

Lily though came to her brother's rescue and reminded Hugo about the awaiting food- a topic that always distracted him. Hugo Granger-Weasley was as endlessly hungry as his father.

While the tall First Year led the way with eager strides Lily hung back to talk to Albus, having a good idea why he had been waiting for her this particular day. "I thought you were going to talk to Zoey at breakfast?"

"I- I am! Of course!"

"Then why aren't you at the Great Hall?"

"Because- I-" he wrung his hands together. "What am I supposed to do? Just walk up to Ravenclaw Table in the middle of the school, where everyone can see me go?"

"Yes." Lily said simply. She absently wondered why that part bothered him when he did it often enough already.

"And- and just start talking?"

"Yes."

"Then- then just go 'oh by the way, that Hogsmeade thing _weeks_ ago was a de _-ate?"_ His last word cracked with nerves or puberty, even Albus wasn't sure which.

"Yes."

"That- it'll be so _awkward_ though…"

"Yes."

"...are you even listening to me anymore?"

"No." Lily teased, smiling broadly. "Just relax, Al. Trust me- you're nervous because you don't know where you stand with her. You thought she knew it was a date, but now you don't know if she knew, which is making you nervous. She doesn't know what you think of the article, so _she's_ gonna be nervous. And Merlin knows you haven't properly talked to each other since you almost- quite unnecessarily- started a fight with Slytherin over her _Halloween_ costume and she- quite justifiably- told you you were being a sod."

Albus winced. Not his finest moment, he admitted. But the idea of someone being so cruel to someone as sweet as Zoey had made him see red like never before. And Slytherin _had_ been the obvious suspects.

"It's a miscommunication." she summarized. "So just communicate."

"You make it sound so simple," he muttered and hung his head with a sigh. Lily was always so good with words, sometimes it made him jealous. He perked up as he was struck with an idea. "Or- _or!-_ you could tell her for me?"

His hope was dashed as she gave him a withering look of disapproval. Albus dropped his head again, watching his feet.

"If you don't hurry, Al, they'll be out of bacon." Hugo chided, waiting impatiently at the end of the hall. "Why is there never enough bacon?"

"He's hurrying." Lily grabbed Albus's elbow to pull him forward, despite his larger size and protests.

And so, this was the scene the three Legacies presented when they turned the corner. A tall, obviously impatient redhead tapping his foot while a tiny third year ginger forcibly dragged her older brother along, who was attempting to brace his heels before him in the theatrical manner of a toddler.

"Ahem- Excuse me."

They all started guiltily and turned to the Ravenclaw student that had cleared his throat, looking obviously amused by their banter. Lily hurriedly composed her appearance, the sudden release making Albus tumble to the ground with a "Waaa-" and a crash of books.

Hugo rushed over to help him put himself together as Lily obviously struggled to maintain a straight face while talking to the Ravenclaw. "Sorry, I don't think I recognise you."

"We've never met," he smiled without teeth and held out a hand to shake. "I was hoping- well, it's just- you know Lysander, right? The Scamander Prefect?"

Lily frowned lightly, somehow feeling like such stutters didn't suit this boy they way they did her brother. "We do."

"Oh good." His shoulders dropped. "I wanted to ask you something…"

* * *

Neville Longbottom was enjoying Friday morning breakfast. As he sat in the Deputy Head chair and watched the Houses trickle in to their respective tables, he could see the head of practically every student in every House and had a fair idea of what they were doing.

It made him admire all the more how easy Fred and George Weasley had made their shenanigans seem. Not that he could admit that anymore. Being a Professor, Gryffindor Head of House and Deputy Head of Hogwarts meant that he was no longer working against school authority. Still, walking the halls of Hogwarts during the year he was constantly reminded of his time as a student. As a child he'd never expected to be leading the DA that Harry Potter had started in their fifth year- and nobody expected of him either. He had been Neville Longbottom, the boy who frequently lost his toad and barely managed to keep up in class. But when push came to shove Neville had found himself not only helping but leading the student rebels against the Death Eaters who'd overtaken Hogwarts in his final year.

And again he'd never have imagined becoming Hogwarts Faculty himself. It had taken years for him to adjust to the title, and hearing McGonagall call him 'Professor Longbottom' instead of 'Mister Longbottom' still had him reeling from time to time.

"Mornin' Neville." Hagrid intoned deeply, his seat at the table causing his chair to groan in protest even with its magical strength. Having never been one for formality, the half-giant had never bothered calling his old student by anything else.

Neville greeted him before returning to his tea, nostalgia warming him as much as the beverage and relaxed his vigil. With a second professor in the hall, he allowed himself to enjoy his meal while only occasionally scanning the student body. He had grown increasingly fond of Hagrid as they worked together over the years, recognizing a kindred spirit over magical flora and fauna that had been allowed to grow once they became co-workers. Hagrid had even been one of the strong advocates of Neville's appointment to Gryffindor Head of House when the predecessor stepped down from that post due to age, then again for the Deputy Head position after Professor Sprout's retirement a few years later. Neville chuckled at the memory, his mind wandering between past and present.

Students these days didn't even know that the Dark Arts Professorship had once been cursed with a high turnover. Neville had been the professor to break the streak of yearly replacements, teaching the defensive class for a decade before a position in his true passion- Herbology- had opened. While he'd been sad to see Professor Sprout go- didn't matter how long she'd been retired she'd always be his professor- he had also been shocked by his candidacy for Deputy Head of Hogwarts. Him, Neville Longbottom, toad-losing extraordinaire, working as Mcgonagall's right hand man?

Some days he still couldn't believe he'd won.

Needless to say it had been a hectic time. Not only was he helping Professor Sybil take over his old position but he'd been following his own curriculum and starting Dumbledore's Dueling Club while gaining new responsibilities.

A flash of purple caught his eye in the present, and he gave a start as he saw Professor Orion's pet climb onto the faculty table before propping itself on its haunches to gain a better view of the entrance to the Great Hall. Hagrid cooed appreciatively the creature and tempted him with a slice of bacon from one seat over, heedless of the bristled spikes. It had taken weeks and many bloody needlings before Hagrid had gained the murtlap's trust. The persistence had paid off, and a bond had formed. Now the few minutes between the arrival of familiar and its master were filled with bacon munching and chin scratches, to the delight of both parties involved.

Punctually, Jonovan Orion's tall frame slid into the seat between Neville and Hagrid, eyes searching for the carafe of coffee he had convinced the kitchens to add to the menu for morning meals. His pet promptly left a slightly dejected Hagrid to move next to his master's plate expectantly.

Neville knew it was fruitless to strike up a conversation with the young Assistant before the caffeine gave life to his veins, so he left the man to his cream and sugar with a polite nod before again scanning the Hall.

Yellow and red lined robes pulled his gaze as he watched them moving toward the Ravenclaw tables. His curiosity was piqued for a moment, until he recognized Lily, Hugo, and Albus sitting with Lysander Scamander. It was tough remaining an independent authority figure when many of the students considered him an uncle since infancy. He had been to the Burrow many times during the breaks and always enjoyed the experience. Being a Hogwarts Faculty member came with challenges, as the students and school faculty became his family for half the year.

It was nice to go visit friends during the breaks, to step out of the responsible role and just enjoy a meal or two with eyes only for his plate and neighbors at the table instead of keeping a half mind on supervising.

A contented sigh to his right announced the first sip of coffee of the day for young Orion. The man smiled for a moment before saying "Good morning Professor Longbottom."

Neville smiled, "Assistant Orion"

The dark haired man loaded his plate, passing his pet a few slices of bacon which were eagerly devoured despite Hagrid's earlier bribes. For such a slender man he had a voracious appetite, Neville reflected with a grin. They'd had an extended conversation on whether it was related to his metamorphmagi skills, as Teddy Lupin- the only other metamorphmagi whose eating habits he'd observed- had been infamous as a bottomless pit as well.

The topic had carried them through three meals and couldn't reach a definitive conclusion. Neville had grown to appreciate Orion's incredible capacity as a conversationalist over the semester and recognized a thirst for knowledge that rivaled that of his students. Once or twice a week the newest Faculty addition would offer a new finding from his time pouring through the Library, and this morning was no exception.

"I have a question for you today Professor" he said, the familiar opening inviting a new conversation that Neville eagerly nodded to accept.

"It's two pronged; first is about the division of subject matter between classes, the other about categorization of magical life." Neville nodded for him to continue, and the young man took a bite of egg while gathering his thoughts.

"I was reading about the inhabitants of magical forests, and came across an entry on bowtruckles- the magical tree spirits? Fascinating, and yet I was perplexed as to where the students would learn about them. As both creature and plant, I can see them being taught in both Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures."

At the mention of his class, Hagrid turned a massive ear toward the conversation.

"And yet upon inspection of school records, I see that in the past a large portion of Defense Against the Dark Arts has been spent teaching about avoiding magical creatures, and even bowtruckles specifically." The young man tapped his fork thoughtfully on his plate, eyes drifting ahead of him as he contemplated the issue. "Additionally, their bark has amazing potential as a potion ingredient. What is the proper place for them to be taught?"

"Herbology."

"Care o' Magical Creatures o' course!"

Neville's gaze caught Hagrid's as they answered in unison, and the conversation grew to include the grey maned teacher and address his input. "Care of Magical Creatures? As clearly plant based life, Herbology is their natural place. What's next, mandrakes?"

"We could! You don't take care of 'em right, poor thin's need someone ter read 'em bedtime stories, and make sure they're tucked in righ' in the winter…"

"Hagrid I put blankets over all of my plants, even the ones in the greenhouses."

"Green'ouses." Hagrid scoffed, fingers daintily holding the utensils that were too small for him. "Fancy words for cages."

"Hagrid-" Neville groaned over the old arguement

"Professors, please" The Assistant interrupted, "I didn't mean to spark an old feud. Quite the contrary, this ties into my second question." He paused to make sure he had both Professor's full attention before continuing.

Rasputin's quills clicked against eachother and he snuck another piece of bacon off Jon's plate as the conversation drew its eager participants' attention in close.

"Hear me out. In my examination of the school records, I saw little to no evidence of collaboration between the classes when it comes to overlapping subject matters like these. The correlation between plants and potions is incredibly strong, as is the overlap between Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts. My question is; has there ever been any cross-subject collaboration, and if not would you two be interested in pioneering one in this smaller area of overlap between your subjects as a test of concept?"

Neville's gaze met Hagrid's again, both of them struck by the possibility. After it sank in for a moment, Neville spoke. "I've never thought about that before. If we were going to do something like that, it would have to be after the winter holiday."

"I woul' need ter bait some creatures in. Bowtruckles, Mandrakes… Think der was a dryad nest in the Forbidden Fores' las' spring, they'd be nestin' again abou' now."

"Dryads?" Jonovan asked, spurring the conversation further.

"Oh yes" Neville responded "They're actually a subspecies of Bowtruckle. And those aren't all we could teach. There is some interesting possibility to test different manures with plants in a lab type setting with this overlap…"

"Need ter be a Tuesday."

"I've got N.E.W.T. students in the morning…"

Jonovan leaned back in his seat as the two professors grew more animated in the possibility, and allowed himself a small smile as he listened, ears still in the conversation but eyes elsewhere. Rasputin purred over his breakfast, feeling his masters satisfaction as both he and the Assistant watched their dear bright haired Ravenclaw leave her bench and move decisively across the hall to the Gryffindor table.

* * *

Somehow Zoey's feet had found their way out from under Ravenclaw Table, crossing the Great Hall seemingly on their own. They found their way through the crowd and stood her behind a recognizable set of red hair. And then they stopped, their job done, leaving Zoey standing at the Gryffindor table, end nearest the door.

A Gryffindor girl sitting beside Lorcan across the table- Zoey didn't have any classes with her so she didn't know her name- saw her first and quieted, the neighbors following her gaze and silencing as well.

Still her feet refused to move, still her heart was pounding in her ears as she stood as immobile as a statue while her mind spun in her head.

"Hey Lysander," Lily had asked, "Why did you take Rosie into Ravenclaw Tower Halloween night?"

"Huh?" Zoey remembered being confused by the statement, which had inspired Albus to chime in.

"Some student said he saw you and Rose in the tower during the Feast. Wanted to know if Prefects could allow other Houses to enter, or if you'd been breaking a rule." The three Legacies had paused to look at the twin and await his answer.

"I didn't." Sandy replied in his simplistic relating of facts, but Zoey's mind had already started running. She blinked rapidly as her mind swarmed with a dozen rapid-fire shots, like a machine-gun of revelations ripping through what had been a pleasant morning.

Someone had seen Lysander and Rose in Ravenclaw Tower on Halloween Night. But Sandy hadn't been in Ravenclaw Tower. Sandy had been right here, with her, at the Feast. So someone had seen someone else that _looked_ like Sandy… He had a twin brother, Zoey remembered, distantly aware that Albus was talking to her but not hearing a word of it. A twin brother in Gryffindor… same House as Rose.

That was when her feet had started moving, Albus commenting that Zoey looked a bit sick and she maybe she answered that she just needed a minute.

Rose was unmistakable in Hogwarts, her family fame assured that. So why would Rose be in Ravenclaw Tower? Gryffindors had their own Tower, and a very nice one at that. Rose must have needed something specific. But what…?

Rose had been acting cold to her. Now that she thought about it, Rose's interactions had gone beyond frustrated tutor a while ago, but after Halloween night… Lots had changed. The bullying had started. People looked her differently. Rose- the studious, diligent, persevering Rose- had quit, stormed out of her tutoring responsibility.

...after taking her insult about the _Scandals_ creators to heart. Perhaps- personally? Rose hadn't looked her in the eye once since Halloween Night. Why not? Zoey had the uncomfortable feeling that she now knew the answer. The picture. In the article. The last time she'd seen it had been in the Tower Halloween night.

The Gryffindors in front of her had quieted, but Zoey didn't say a word to them. She kept staring at the head of auburn-red curls, watching it turn to reveal Rose's ear. Cheek. Nose. And finally, her eyes.

As soon as she caught that green gaze in her own Zoey held it, a tendril of her magic rising up to aid her powers of observation. And so she saw all the little tells, the mundane things. Part of her was applauding her memory of detective interrogation skills, and the rest was cursing Jon's obsession with his favorite documentary. She didn't want to know what it meant when she saw the corner of Rose's eye twitch in not a blink but a flinch at the sight of her, saw Rose's eyes instinctively dip down and to the left for a moment… Zoey even saw the pupils of Rose's eyes constrict a bit.

"It's you?"

Rose's mouth snapped shut and her throat bobbed, then she pulled herself up straight and snapped "Of course I'm me, who else would I be?"

Zoey blinked a few more times before she realized the two words had come out of her own mouth. Like it had broken the dam she suddenly found herself moving, breathing, and talking again. "It was you." she declared, pieces coming together in her mind like a horrible jigsaw whose image should have long ago been apparent. Jon was right, Zoey realized. She really was naive.

These words held far more accusation in them, and a few conversations quieted down as a result. Students from all Houses saw them as they entered the Hall and slowed, many stopping to gather and watch.

Rose flinched- again- then glanced around before standing slowly. "What are you talking about, transfer?"

Zoey felt her magic churn, loose because of her subtle use of it a second ago. Since when had Rose been calling her that? "You wrote the article about me. Didn't you?"

Half the Gryffindor's stopped to stare at the accusation, though it was quietly delivered. The casual observers from other Houses leaned in with peaked interest. The Scandal author was unknown but the commonly held theory was that he or she was Gryffindor due to the frequent articles against Slytherin. Rose's eyes narrowed as she asked "What article?"

"Wrong." Zoey said, her voice moving to detached and analytical. "I realize that you are trying to act innocent, but your response should have first been 'I didn't write anything about you'... And _then_ you could seek knowledge about which of the… let's see, grand total of two smear pieces I've been featured in?"

Vaguely aware of dropping jaws, Rose straightened the ends of her sleeves. "No. I was just asking you to be specific with your accusations against me."

"I can be specific. You, Rose Granger-Weasley, snuck into Ravenclaw Tower during the Halloween Feast. You snuck in with Lorcan," hers and dozens of other gazes shifted for a moment to look at the Gryffindor that was frozen with a piece of toast halfway into his mouth, "Who disguised himself as his Ravenclaw twin, Lysander Scamander. You were seen, but because he had assumed the guise of a Prefect your trespass went unreported."

Rose started stammering a protest, her face deepening a few shades of red.

She spoke over her former tutor without shouting, her voice projecting as flawlessly as a professional speaker. "When did this start? We were friends on the train. You _hugged_ me at the Sorting Ceremony." Zoey gestured to the doorway a couple of paces away, her hurt and confusion apparent. "What changed? I thought we were friends."

It was such a cliche line that it made a few people chuckle humorlessly.

Their amusement bolstered Rose's confidence, and she folded her arms. "And I thought you were intelligent. You're in Ravenclaw, Malam, I don't know _why_ I've had to tutor you all semester. Yeah that's right," she raised her voice to agree with the murmurs of surprise. "I've been helping this ungrateful- idjit all semester, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Zoey." she corrected tersely, some rather bitter comments about the supposed 'help' coming to mind but she pushed them aside. She needed to stay focused and controlled, a feat that was hard in the wake of rising emotions and fraying power. "And considering that you quit on me, I don't think you were all that committed to begin with. Tell me again, Rose- why did you leave? Was it because of me… or because you realized what was happening because of an article _you_ wrote?"

"I-" she was still obviously flustered. "I didn't write anything about you! Or anyone! I don't know why you can stand here claiming to be all innocent and sparkle sunshine when everyone saw it! That picture you kept in your diary is proof that you've been hiding something! You waltzed into Hogwarts and started strutting around like you own the place. Worming your way into every group, making them think you can do no wrong! What are you planning? Why are you late to Hogwarts, huh? Where were you the past four years? Well go on! You wanted to talk so let's talk!"

The transfer paused a moment to see if Rose had anything else to say, then she flexed her jaw and then her neck. Her green eyes flashed as she looked at Rose, and despite being a good few inches shorter her bearing made them seem evenly sized to the casual observer. Zoey demanded "Say that again."

"Which part?" Rose huffed, lifting her own chin.

"The part," Zoey's fingers flexed and crackled as purple sparks twitched from the ends of them, "Where you knew that picture was in my diary."

Silence reigned for a few moments, until one of the Slytherin spectators breathed "Oh dear."

Before her eyes, Zoey saw a rare sight. As red and indignant as Rose had been, she was growing equally pale. _Fear._ That's what Zoey saw in the Legacy's eyes now, and a primal part of her magic flared in response to that, to the guilt, an instinctive fight that was long overdue with the amount of flight she'd been pushing herself through for the past week.

Zoey took a moment to pull herself back together, until she was struck by a terrifying thought. "How did you know it was a diary?" She asked, her voice lined with a thread of panic over the book she'd yet to find. She'd written it in her mother's code, no one should be able to read it.

Her panic lost her the advantage- Rose ran with the new conversation path. "Why did you keep a picture of the Assistant in your diary, idjit? Why _kiss_ him- someone who's what, twelve years older than you?"

She again raised her voice for the spectators, who murmured agreeing sounds of disgust.

"I've already told you," Zoey all but growled, her tentative grip on her magic loosing. Winds whirled around her, freeing her hair from its tie and billowing her robes like a cape. It was suitably dramatic, and Zoey let it happen because all things considered it was a benign way for her magic to release its steam. "He's family."

"Oh sure right, you're adopted. Doesn't seem to have stopped you Transfer-"

"Zoethia Malam." Zoey cut her off, her temper spiking as she jabbed her own chest in emphasis of her name. "Jonovan _Malam_ Orion. As someone named _Granger-Weasley,_ you'd _think_ you'd have figured out what that meant!"

"I- it means-"

"His mother and my father were siblings!" Zoey shouted, then paused and reached up to redo her hairtie, her tone calming. "My aunt and uncle adopted me when I was five, and him thirteen. We are _cousins._ That picture is five years old, us _and his folks_ vacationing at Disneyland. _Who do you think took the picture!?_ "

"But…" Rose stammered, the last of her defenses shattering to pieces. Her last protest, the final straw that had held the story together, had snapped. The guilt and stress and the horrible realization of how _wrong_ she had been slammed down into her with the weight of a horcrux, and her green eyes started to water. "How was I supposed to know?"

"You could have asked!" the words were hissed as more sparks snapped off of Zoey's fingers, strands of hair escaping to swirl in the chill winds that were speeding up around her. "Anytime! Any of you!"

Spectators leaned back at the sudden inclusion, many- especially her previous bullies- ducking their faces away in shame.

"All this obsession with the Second War and here you all are, letting a- a piece of paper decide your beliefs! What happened to your individuality? Thinking for yourselves! Your parents fought so hard to give you that chance and- and here you are, worshiping the words of an unnamed stranger as unmitigated truth!" Zoey took a breath. "Couldn't even ask a question. So much for Gryffindor bravery."

Rose straightened. "That was uncalled for. I know you're mad at me but that's no reason to fault my House!"

"I'm not 'faulting' your House. Just noting some pervasive traits of the people in it. All of Hogwarts actually. Like you," Zoey suddenly pointed to a Gryffindor boy down the table. "You hexed me a few days after the second article came out. From behind a suit of armor." she rolled her eyes. "Quite bravely."

A few chuckles at her sarcasm arose from Slytherin bystanders.

"I assume that's because you think it was right about me being a squid." Nobody called her out on the mispronunciation. Zoey crooked a finger and the roll on his plate hand flew through the air and into her hand, where she bounced it a few time as though preparing to toss it back. "What do you think now?"

The boy, mortified to be so publicly chastised, ducked behind a friend, who glared at Zoey but couldn't say a word in his defense.

Rose's mouth dropped at the casual magic. Zoey's sparks could be done by anyone emotional- such bursts of uncontrolled magic were not unheard of, and even expected of unschooled wizards until their powers grew. That summoning though was controlled and flawless, and it suddenly reminded her of something she'd forgotten. Of how casually Zoey had done wandless transfiguration magic in the first week, to show off to Hugo. "How are you doing that?" she asked, remembering the forgotten curiosity of the incident. "How can you do that without a wand?"

"Just because I haven't been at Hogwarts the past four years doesn't mean I'm untrained."

"You were holding back?" Rose accused in disbelief, her pride pricked by the fact she hadn't noticed sooner. "The whole semester, you've been hiding this? How many times have we tutored you-"

"- _You_ weren't supposed to teach me how to use magic. Or did you forget? McGonagall only wanted you to help me out with the written tests." Zoey snorted in contempt, sparks dancing over the roll in her hand. After a moment she released her magic and like a hound on a hunt it rushed forth in a purple flame, spectators jumping in shock as it cindered the bread in seconds.

Rose's eyes widened in fear and awe, her expression mirrored by many in their audience. The boy Zoey had pointed to gasped, then ducked his head again. Zoey saw his shame and remembered the tales of her infancy, of brave standing against the odds to do what was right. "How the mighty lions have fallen."

Quite a few students took offense to that, red robed and otherwise. Gryffindor was idolized, and _nobody_ said the things this transfer was uttering.

Rose swelled with animosity at the insults. "What's your problem with Gryffindor? Or did that Slytherin mum of yours- ahh-"

Zoey had cut her words off with a raised hand in a covering motion, and a purple shadow extending from it to shut Rose's mouth. "Do not finish that statement. Ever."

"Oi!" Lorcan jumped up at the aggressive motion, grabbing his wand. "Leave her alone! If you want to blame someone blame me- it was my idea, I'm the one that snuck us in-"

"I am not talking with you. I do not care what you have to say." Zoey turned her gaze on Lysander's look-alike, snapping and pointing to his vacated seat in a smooth motion. "So sit down. And shut up."

To everyone's shock, he did. His muscles seized and forced him back into his seat, wand hand pinned firmly to the table. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly. It was obvious Lorcan was trying to shout- scream even- but not a sound escaped him.

"What did you do!?" Roxanne cried, running to his side.

Zoey blinked a few times, also surprised by what had happened to the Gryffindor. Her gaze fell on the hand she still had pointed at Rose's throat, widening when she saw her own nails. They were sharpening into claws.

She yanked her hand back as though the gaze had burned it, hiding it in the folds of her still billowing robes. Actually- she realized- the winds were getting bigger, lifting her hair in a personal torrent that touched nothing but herself. For now.

 _No._ This was- this was what _Jon's_ magic did, not hers. Wasn't it…?

Rose put a hand over her released mouth, her expression crumbling. Her chest heaved in a sob, and then tears started to fall. "I- I really didn't know, I'm- sorry, so so sorry. I just- I just wanted to-"

"You 'didn't know'?" her tone was softly incredulous, realizing that she had the momentum and that this moment of vulnerability might be her only chance to get the truth from Rose. "Explain yourself."

Zoey saw Rose's eyes flicker to look at someone before she answered, but she couldn't tell who with the sea of people that were watching them. "I- you just- you're so _frustrating-_ " Rose uttered, and the horrid part of it was that it was the truth, that a reason so small was the cause of something so bad. She cried at her own confession, her words breaking between heaves for air. "I d-didn't want to- I wrote nothing!" She suddenly shouted, grasping at the small kernel of innocence before growing soft with shame again. "I only- I only got the picture. I just thought- thought people should know- I didn't want this to happen to you, I'm sorry- I didn't know… "

The sympathy of the crowd swayed toward the weeping girl, whose regret and pained guilt were obvious. Zoey saw them as well, but while she was empathetic to the plight she could offer no sympathy.

"You have _no idea_ what the past week has been like for me." The Ravenclaw declared. "I have been assaulted. Pelted. Bombarded by Howlers in my own common room... And _you're_ the one crying? What gives you the right? You're a sneak. A thief…" Her tone turned cruel and harsh as her voice threatened to break into tears of her own, "And a betrayer."

Rose's eyes darted around as though they could find the words that would fix this, some magical combination of sounds and letters, but none came and all she managed was to repeat "Sorry" over and over again.

Zoey raised a curled hand by her head, poised to scratch the Gryffindor with the claws it had grown. The action brought attention to the other features on her that had changed. Her cheekbones were more square and the entire face was more angled, rising up to ears that had grown slightly pointed. Slitted eyes narrowed as they looked over the cowering girl, seeing her reflection in them, and then in a blur Zoey's hand moved forward and grabbed her other wrist, yanking the spare hair tie that she'd been wearing as a bracelet.

"Saying a word doesn't make it true," Zoey's voice was slightly shaky as it became her turn to avoid Rose's eyes, avoid all of them. She set to work redoing her high ponytail yet again, the ethereal qualities of her countenance gone as though never existed. "You have to prove it."

"Anything," Rose promised through her sobs, holding her stomach as she heaved.

"Never enter Ravenclaw Tower again."

"Never." She readily agreed, done with sneaking for life after this.

"And give it back."

There was a heavy pause. "What back?"

"My diary." Zoey held out a hand, her fingernails normal though purple sparks still emerged and faded like crackles off a bonfire. "Right now."

"I- I-" Rose dry swallowed. "I can't, I don't have it anymore, it's-"

 _Gone._ Zoey's eyes widened and panic sliced through her. She'd had that diary her whole life, it was one of the few things her mother had given her- and if someone read it, read about the last four years-

She didn't mean to do it, she really didn't. But Zoey's magic fed on her fears and- already fueled by the anger and betrayal that churned inside her- blasted out of her, no longer a chill wind but a bottled blizzard that ripped around her like a whirlpool. Electric blue hair crackled in her line of sight as it broke from its bindings, framing the image of student and Legacy alike cowering before the sheer power she emitted.

Zoey couldn't deny- It. Felt. _Good._

And that terrified her.

Silverware tumbled to the stone floor in echoing crashes and tore through the windows of the Great Hall like they were paper. Shouts of surprise and fear were overrun by a rising sound like the scream of a banshee, one that continued from one heartbeat into two until-

The Deputy Head's voice boomed through the hall, "What is going on here?"

* * *

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy would never be comfortable waiting outside the Headmaster's Office. He knew full well that he wasn't due for a reprimand with this visit… probably… but the uncertainty was bound to keep him wary.

He was well acquainted with McGonagall's Office. Scorpius had been here a number of times as a result of clashes with the Legacy brats, and the Headmistress's stern demeanor always overshadowed any pleasure he got from Headmaster Snape's snide comments about the many failures of the Potter dynasty.

He brought his mind back to the present. This time it was not his own doing that brought him here, but Malam and Thorn.

Considering the spectacle and crowd that had gathered around the pair- himself admittedly included- he was surprised that the faculty hadn't noticed sooner. It hadn't been until Malam's magic… well, exploded was the only word that came to mind, insufficient as it was to describe the swell of power that had surrounded her. It hadn't been until Malam's magic had created such a ruckus that Professor Longbottom had arrived, his face swelled in a rare show of anger. Nobody dared run from the scene, certain they'd be hunted down like rabbits.

It hadn't looked good. Students, hiding behind each other and under tables. Rose, near hysterics with her tears and crumpled where she'd fallen back against the bench. Malam, her hair billowing around her with the magic she was emitting, still sending the stray fork or spoon careening away from her.

The obvious conclusion of such a scene was, of course, exactly what had been assumed. Longbottom took a protective stance in front of Rose, turning his gaze to Zoey. "Stop this. Now."

Zoey had taken a gulping breath, gripping one wrist in the other. As suddenly as it had arisen the magic around her vanished, her blue hair falling in light waves around her face. Lorcan gasped and fell forward as the magic over him suddenly released its hold, gripping Roxanne to steady himself.

Glancing at the student and only just realizing that the boy had been bespelled Longbottom's gaze had turned even darker. The Professor had a notoriously low tolerance for misused petrifying charms.

Scorpius Malfoy remembered his father once confessing to being a likely cause of that animosity, something about school bullying. He'd never believed it- the idea of anyone, even his father, getting a drop on even a young Professor Longbottom was unfathomable. The man was as much of a living legend as Harry Potter himself, only the scar on his face had been earned by his own heroism and not a curse in infancy.

"What happened here?" Longbottom had asked again, displeased with the lack of answer. "Why have you attacked Miss Granger-Weasley?"

"I would hardly call this an attack, Professor." Assistant Orion stepped in, surveying the scene himself. Rasputin was shifting uncomfortably on his shoulder.

"Oh? What would you call it, then?"

He spun slowly in place, and Scorpius had recognized the showmanship of an action meant to direct spectator attentions. "A catfight, I do believe. With a bit of magic."

The crowd chuckled slightly in shy amusement, still wary of inciting the wrath of their Deputy Head.

"This is worse than a 'catfight', Orion. The elves will be hours cleaning this, not to mention the windows-"

"Damage, _yes…"_ he was quick to agree. "But I don't see anybody hurt."

Everyone turned to themselves and then their neighbors, shocked to find that the Assistant was right. Despite the flying dishes and goblets and other projectiles nobody had been struck, not one person had even a bruise.

"Nobody was hurt." he had repeated, but this time much softer and looking Zoey in the eye.

The blue haired Ravenclaw released the breath she'd apparently been holding, relaxing her shoulders.

"It- it's my fault-" Rose stammered unconvincingly, shakily getting to her feet as her tears fell. "I- this is-"

Her attempt to diffuse the situation had only backfired. Her tears made it seem she was trying to cover up for Zoey rather than explain, and her 'uncle' Longbottom was suitably worried at the sight of them falling down her round cheeks. He turned to Zoey and declared "This behavior unacceptable."

"Quite right Professor." Orion agreed. "To the Headmasters Office with this?"

Spectator jaws dropped at the declaration from what they now knew was Zoey's cousin, her own flesh-and-blood, suggesting the harshest juror on Hogwarts Faculty.

The Deputy Head nodded agreement. "Daniel, take her." Neville watched the Gryffindor Head Boy readily stepped in to escort her, the pair leaving the Great Hall.

"What about miss Granger-Weasley?" Orion had asked thoughtfully, Rasputin jumping from his shoulder and wandering off.

"I'll get her to the Hospital Wing for a bit of chocolate-"

"I meant her punishment."

Rose had sobbed reflexively at the realization she was likely about to receive the first detention of her life.

"I can make an educated guess as to the cause of their argument, having been looking into the underlying issue for some time now. I'm honestly surprised it took this long for such a conflict to occur, and expected that was what they were arguing about when I saw the crowd gathering."

"And you didn't stop it?" Longbottom had chastised, eyes narrowed in accusation.

"At the time there was no need, the issue didn't escalate until just before you intervened." the Assistant deflected calmly. "Besides, you're focusing on the wrong point. The source of this argument is as important if not more so than the argument itself. Flashy as it was."

The gathered students listened to his words with bated breath as the realization of what Jonovan had said sank in. Jonovan Malam Orion had, obviously, been a key part of the _Scandals_ article. However as part of the faculty and quite frankly rather intimidating Orion had been untouchable, so Zoey alone had been target by wannabe judge and jurors… But now that the school knew they were cousins, they wondered how much of her situation he knew.

Neville broke the silence, "If you have something to say Assistant Orion, let's have out with it. No more theatrics."

"Very well." Jonovan turned to Rose. "Miss Granger-Weasley, why did you infiltrate Ravenclaw Tower the night of the Halloween Feast to steal another student's personal property, while accompanied by Misters Lorcan Scamander and James Potter?"

Rose blushed under the scrutiny of the hall, barely keeping back the tears. "How… How did you know James was there?"

"Oh dear." Priscilla had said a second time, the polite words barely hiding a note of glee.

"You just told me."

There was a resounding thud as Roxanne Weasley smashed her forehead on the table in obvious frustration with her cousin's poor instincts. Lorcan hurriedly covered the sound by banging his hands on the table and getting to his feet in the same motion. "It was my idea, honest. Don't blame Rose, I strongarmed her into it."

Scorpius remembered scoffing at the declaration. He'd never known Rose to be forced into anything.

Rose gave a hiccup of gratitude as she swiped a fresh round of tears off her cheeks. There was a moment of silence before Jonovan nodded and pointed out "But you don't deny Mister Potter's involvement either."

The Gryffindor boy fidgeted for a moment under the scrutiny of the hall, the dark haired Assistant, and the Deputy Head, but stood firm "I do deny it. Rose was just flustered."

"Mm." Orion's eyes flashed for a moment, before turning to Professor Longbottom. "Either way, I think this issue is beyond us. In order to prevent partiality in judgment, I think taking this up with the Headmaster is our best course of action. Wouldn't you agree?"

Scorpius had heard the sly tactic in the innocent-toned question. If Professor Longbottom refused, it would call his judgment into question due to his near familial relationship with the accused Legacies.

Professor Longbottom heard the implication as well, but appreciated the truth in the statement if not the tactic. "Very well. Ms. Granger Weasley, Mr. Scamander, you will join Assistant Orion and myself to the Headmaster's office. Professor Hagrid, mind the hall if you would?"

As soon as they'd left, the room was abuzz with speculation. The punishments to be dished out, the repercussions of breaking into another House's dorm, if this was the end of the _Scandals_ articles. When Malfoy sat at Slytherin table, Nott had shot him a sly wink that had left him feeling quite content with the morning until the Head Boy had returned from escorting Zoey, saying McGonagall wanted to see him. Apparently, it couldn't wait until after the morning owls had arrived.

And so Scorpius now stood outside the eagle statue to the Headmasters Office. It would seem he was expected to wait until after whatever dramatic punishment inside had been doled out. If it were not unbecoming of a Malfoy he would be tapping his foot with impatience. Malfoys did not waste time, and Scorpius Hyperion did not enjoy being forced to do so.

Surely the subject of Rose quitting could have waited, Scorpius scowled to himself and clasped his hands behind his back. In the wake of such a spectacle he'd have expected the issue of tutoring and Library restrictions to be put on a backburner, but apparently he didn't have quite the understanding of McGonagall's priorities that he'd thought he'd had.

When the door opened he released the breath of air he'd been holding, turning in preparation to go inside. He stopped though when he realized it wasn't a professor but Rose who was descending the stairs, tears still running down her face.

She froze guiltily at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for McGonagall," he said, looking behind her and tilting his head when nobody else seemed to be coming.

"Just me," she said when she realized what he was waiting for. "I- it seems my presence is 'upsetting' so they had me leave while Zoey told her side of it."

"Hm." Scorpius intoned and went back to leaning against the hall, content to wait in silence. After a moment though he asked "But Lorcan was allowed to stay?"

She sniffled, looking like she was about to cry again. Rose Granger-Weasley was a mess, her eyes red and puffy and her loose hair tangled like a rat's nest. "Yes."

Interesting. But not enough to warrant conversation.

Rose paused for a moment, then moved next to him and leaned against the wall herself.

She didn't seem to realize how strange and unnecessary the proximity was. Scorpius raised an eyebrow at her, looking pointedly at the scant inches between them.

Strangely she took it as an invitation to talk. "I wonder how she found out…"

"Does it matter?" he snorted.

"No. I suppose not." She shrunk even further into herself. "I just… I really didn't know…"

She winced when he snorted again. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's true!" Rose protested. "I didn't- why would people do that to her? With the sand and the howlers and- and any of it!"

"Because they could." Scorpius Malfoy declared, feeling his mood darken.

"But… but they shouldn't." Rose protested weakly. "They've never done so before."

"Merlin, what world have you been living in?" He asked, honestly incredulous that she'd been so unaware of what happened around her. "What did you think would happen?"

"I thought- I just thought she'd get expelled, or at least investigated!"

Scorpius froze, his gaze narrowing. "You want her expelled?" He asked, his tone low and dangerous as his grey eyes darkened into twin storms.

"No! Well- I did. Kind of…" Rose trailed off, scratching her own nose. "But- but only if the rumors were true! Student-teacher romances are forbidden!"

"Then you should have taken your suspicions to McGonagall. What did you think a _Scandals_ would accomplish, anyways?"

"I- it wasn't my idea, it was Jam-" Rose cut herself off with a hurried blush.

"James Potter. Of course." Malfoy scoffed, looking away from her. "The Legacy who'd do anything for half as much limelight as his dear ol' da, Hero of the Wizarding World."

"Hey, Uncle Harry never wanted to be famous. It just- happened. Voldemort… made sure of that."

"I am aware of the course of events." Scorpius blandly ended the tangential subject, uneager to hear a Legacy regalement of their claim to fame. He moved back to the topic at hand. "Fine- I believe you when you say you didn't know what you were getting into."

Rose sighed with relief, sagging against the wall. She didn't want Malfoy to hate her, she didn't think she could take that on top of everything else.

"So what about the past week?"

"What about it?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "It's been seven days since the release of that article. For at least the past four of them, you were told _exactly_ what Malam was going through. You saw her at tutoring."

She shifted uncomfortably, her defenses going back up. "So?"

"So," he repeated curtly, "What's your excuse for that part?"

Rose started shrinking into the wall again.

 _The mighty lions had fallen, indeed._ Scorpius silently agreed, pressing on "You were running. You quit tutoring because you couldn't face Malam anymore, but you still didn't do anything about it. What did you do Thorn, bury yourself in the library all week?"

"Restricted Section," she admitted after a moment," Nobody could bother me there. I just… wanted it to be over already. I'm glad it is."

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy blinked at the statement, then he laughed. It was dry and humorless, with a current of pitying condensation coursing through it.

Rose flushed, straightening. "What? What's so funny?"

"You think this is over?" Scorpius repeated, amusement vanishing as quickly as it had surfaced. "Thorn, your little tete-a-tete with Malam has stirred tensions that nobody's dared touch for a looong time. The rumor mills are going to be flying with this by noon. Everyone will know what _you_ did, but they'll also know every word she said. What do you think your precious fans will think of her driving you to tears?"

"I don't have fans," Rose bristled, wiping some of said tears away. "And it's none of their business."

He chuckled, an echo of the laughter before with even less warmth. "Of course it isn't," the unspoken _but that won't matter_ hanging between them. After she'd reflected on that Malfoy continued "And even if you don't have fans, how do you think the Ravenclaws will feel about you breaking into their Tower?"

"I…" she didn't know what to say to that. Rose felt tears falling yet again. "I don't even know how this happened."

Scorpius saw them and looked away, unrepentant. Unlike the last time he'd seen her crying he felt no sympathy, no incessant need to do something about the emotions that were obviously tearing her apart. "You are self-absorbed." The young Malfoy said instead, answering Thorn with the truth. "Self-centered. And self-entitled. That's how."

Rose cried harder, sliding against the wall. She only stopped when her shoulder bumped against his, burying her face in her hands and howling so loud the portraits started shifting away uncomfortably.

When one glared at him Scorpius glared right back, uncowed by the disapproval of a dead man that had been recreated in ink and oil. He wanted to step away from Rose, force her to stand on her own through this, but some instinct warned against it. A suspicion that if he did she would merely crumple and never get up again.

He chose not to analyse why that was an adverse outcome.

So they stayed exactly where they were until the Headmaster's Office opened again, the procession Scorpius had previously anticipated dispersing into the hallway. Professor Longbottom was the first out, then Orion who was closely followed by Malam.

Scorpius did a double-take at her, realizing she was crying as well. But instead of being a mess of tears and snot and caterwauling like an injured beast Malam was just… crying. She didn't seem to notice that tears were leaking down her face, and although she looked him in the eye she quickly averted her gaze when Rose tried to step forward.

Rose sobbed again at the silent rejection, a loud sound that echoed in the hallway.

Scorpius didn't miss the flash of contempt on Assistant Orion's face as he looked at the noisy Gryffindor, before his gaze shifted to him and softened.

The expression set him on edge- Orion was not a soft man, and Scorpius wanted to know what had caused such a display. Subtle as it was.

"The Headmaster will see you in a moment, Malfoy." Professor Longbottom said, patting him on the shoulder. "Brace yourself."

Even more warnings went off in his mind; this was not a normal display from the Herbology Professor either. Was he perhaps _blamed_ for Rose quitting? It was a plausible explanation…

Longbottom lifted his hand and put it on Rose's head, gently suggesting something with familial worry. Scorpius was fairly certain he'd heard the word 'chocolate', and Rose wandered off.

Zoey relaxed visibly at her departure, and revealed that she did know her tears by wiping at them in frustrated motions. The Faculty members moved off to the side to have a sharp, whispered conversation, leaving the two students to themselves. After a moment Zoey broke the silence. "Are you here to- to tell McGonagall how my sessions with _her_ went?"

"I don't believe so," Scorpius said carefully, knowing the 'her' was undoubtedly Thorn and understanding why she would assume his presence was related to their fight.

She relaxed a bit more, one hand twisting her still-loose hair. It seemed that she'd run out of hair ties and so it fell about her shoulders in soft gold waves. Brown or blue complimented her better, Scorpius thought absentmindedly. "What're you here for, then?"

"Tell you later."

"Oh." she said softly and deflated, turning to walk off without a goodbye.

Scorpius raised both eyebrows at the reaction. He'd expected at least a question, maybe two. Not that he would have told her anyways, he doubted she'd want to be reminded about Rose quitting as it would also remind her about the newly-discovered reason why. Zoey didn't look back, and Scorpius couldn't think of a response before she rounded the corner. It left him feeling oddly unbalanced, and he chalked it up to her unprecedented response.

"If you find the time later this afternoon," Orion suddenly said to Malfoy without preamble, Longbottom walking away down the other corridor. "I would like you to join me for tea in my Office. There is something I would like to discuss."

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy turned a gray gaze on the man he'd instantly sensed as a fellow tactician. His display today had been carefully controlled and swayed an irate Longbottom into leaving punishments to a calmer mind, a feat he suspected few others would have managed. Orion, he reluctantly admitted, was a wild card in Faculty interactions that he had underestimated. Something he planned rectify. "I'll be there."

The moving stairs opened again, and Lorcan descended with a frown on his face. The Gryffindor didn't look at any of them as he walked off, grumbling something about his detentions.

Orion watched him go with a near imperceptible smile of satisfaction, then turned back to Malfoy. "I believe McGonagall is ready for you, Mister Scorpius. I'll speak with you after lunch."

"See you then." he agreed before passing the eagle statue.

* * *

The stupid tears wouldn't stop. Zoey kept wiping at them as she walked up Ravenclaw Tower, but like a burst faucet they kept dripping in the aftermath of the explosion. McGonagall's office had been a blur, voices floating meaningless through the air. It hadn't been until Jon gripped her shoulder and sorted out her magic that she'd been able to think straight.

 _Jon_ had calmed _her_ magic. That had never happened before, and her stomach heaved at the implications. Her magic tried to roll up with it, but Zoey managed to settle it herself before answering the eagle's riddle, opening the door to her House. She stopped immediately, surprised by the amount of sheer _noise_ that was emanating from the normally quiet commons.

"Order!" Wilkes called, gaining their attention. "Now, I know this is upsetting. But we need to keep our composure and start from the top. First things first- how many believe that Rose Granger-Weasley and Lorcan Scamander did indeed break into _our_ Tower?"

There was a rare amount of emotion in her query, one that was matched by her blue-robed peers. "She confessed to it!"

"They both did!"

"What was your brother thinking?" someone suddenly asked Lysander, who was sitting in his usual spot with a book. Zoey took a moment to marvel at his composure.

"Don't ask me." He said and flipped a page. "Despite contrary accounts, we are not the same person."

Wilkes nodded curtly. "Acknowledged. That notion is what enabled the deception in the first place. In addition, by impersonating not only one of us but a _Prefect_ , they have undermined the very rules of Hogwarts itself."

There were rising murmurs of disquiet, and Zoey slipped off her shoes before she made her way around the edge of the room, listening at the masses going back and forth on who to blame. Some people faulted just the culprits, others attested that their actions were indicative of a larger issue between Ravenclaw and the Legacies or even the entirety of Gryffindor. The room stayed firmly divided on the subject, Sam and other DDC members vocally protesting the treatment against Zoey and pointing out that they'd been right about the unjust bullying she'd suffered.

For once Wilkes was unable to bring the group to a unanimous conclusion. She looked upset by that- as Head Girl, more often than not her word was law.

Lysander looked up. "Zoey." He put his book away.

"Hey Sandy," Zoey answered, blinking in surprise. Usually she was the one to start conversations with him. In fact she doubted that he'd ever noticed her presence before she interrupted his reading by speaking to him. Her eyes caught a glint of gold and she looked down to see a coin in his hands. It shimmered strangely and she blinked again. "What is that? It's not a galleon, is it? Why do you have a fake coin?"

He jerked out of his thoughts in surprise. "How do you know it's fake?"

"You never carry money around." Zoey stated, keeping the unusual glint of the coin to herself. She doubted most people would notice it anyways. "And if you do it's only ever for the bookshop in Hogsmeade, but this week's trip was moved for the Gryffindor-Slytherin Scrimmage Sunday."

He nodded once in confirmation of her sound reasoning, holding up the coin for her inspection. "My mom used one of these during the Second War to secretly communicate with her allies. Aunt Hermione made new ones for our generation- bit more advanced, now we can respond easier. All the Legacies have one."

"Your mom Luna Scamander?" Zoey asked absentmindedly, holding the gold gently. It was warm to the touch, but she chalked that off to being held recently.

"She was Luna Lovegood in those days." Sandy smiled at an old memory, "She was so pleased when I made it into her House- didn't matter if no-one else understood, she said, as long as I was where I wanted to be. Lorcan and I hated being in separate Houses. It took a while for me to get used to it. Being on my own, I mean. Everyone I'd grown up with became Gryffindor or Hufflepuff."

Zoey looked up from the coin, her eyes wide. This was the most she'd ever heard him talk.

"It has offered me a unique perspective of Hogwarts. Many times people forget that I'm a Legacy same as my brother, however I am not an average student either. I see and hear more honest opinions than most."

She looked at the ongoing debate and back again. "Is that what you're doing now? I always wondered why you decide to read here. If you really didn't want to be disturbed you'd go in your room, or spend more time in the library like-"

Rose.

She'd cut herself off before saying it, biting her lip as though in rebuke for preparing to utter the name of someone who'd so casually hurt her. Lysander tapped his fingers on the armchair, then said "Zoey, Lorcan is my brother. Rose may not be our family by blood but she is family. I will not take sides in this."

Zoey nodded, cringing as she remembered that she'd bespelled his twin. "I- I need to find time to talk to Lorcan, I was just… I dunno. That wasn't planned, it just happened."

He held up a hand. "Let me finish."

She settled back. Lysander rarely had something to say, so when he did she always gave her undivided attention. And this seemed rather important to him.

"In a few days, the Legacies will all gather to have a discussion much like Ravenclaw is. While I don't normally partake in said meetings I suspect that I will be asked to give an opinion this time, likely because I am close to you. However, in order to make any headway with my words I will have to be as neutral as possible in the time leading up to it. To ensure that, I will not speak to Lorcan or Rose. Nor you."

Zoey felt like she'd been punched in the gut, and it took her a moment to remember how to breath. "O-okay, sure. But- but how is that fair? _She'll_ be at the meeting, but I doubt that I'll be invited to defend myself. Unless you could…?"

"You can't come." he swiftly cut her hope off before it could grow anymore. "I don't have that authority. And- depending what happens, Zoey, it may be more than a few days."

Cold abandonment coiled in her stomach, threatening the return of tears that had only barely been checked. "That- that's not fair, Sandy. Ro- _she_ has loads of people. You… you're my best friend. My only friend in the whole House." The only person who'd stayed by her while the rest had accused and debated her 'questionable character'. Who'd stepped in and stopped the Howlers when the rest had just watched the spectacle it presented.

"I'm sorry." he said, once again sounding truly remorseful but Zoey couldn't hear it. She was sick of that word. Sick of sorries for a lifetime.

She stood and dropped his coin in the hand he'd reached out to- what, comfort her? She couldn't tell why he bothered. "Best get to it, then." she choked out, leaving the Tower.

He didn't follow.

Her tears did. Zoey continued swiping them angrily, ignoring the bell that signaled the start of classes as she rushed to Jon's office instead. She'd avoided coming here since the article came out, not wanting casual observers to add more 'evidence' to their false accusations.

But it didn't matter now- she needed him. She needed to bury herself in a safe place, be welcomed and wanted and unjudged _._ As she opened the door to his office her magic blasted forward to reveal the hidden entrance to his room, Zoey barely around the desk before she properly looked at it.

Looked at it- and saw the lock it now featured. Just like the ones he'd sent her. _Magic-proof locks guaranteed to secure privacy. Jon was using his own immediately._

Zoey had forgotten he'd written her that. Her cousin, the paranoid genius. She probably would have realized what he meant if she hadn't been distracted by the Howlers.

First Rose betrayed her, then Scorpius and Sandy pushed her away and now even Jon… the weight of how _alone_ she was crashed down like a tidal wave, drowning her. Zoey didn't even try to open the lock, if Jon had enchanted it she didn't have a chance to break it. Instead she turned on her heel and left.

Her gut was clenching with silent sobs, as though her body couldn't decide if she was sad or sick. Zoey gave up trying to plug her tears and felt sparks on her fingertips again as she moved. Her magic hummed small suggestions of _this way, that way_ which she followed since her instincts never led her wrong before. She didn't realize where she was going this time until she reached it, and then she wondered how she could have expected anywhere else.

An OUT OF ORDER sign tapped against the door as she opened it, stepping inside. Her light footsteps echoed on the white tile as she called out to the empty room "Hello Myrtle? I- I don't mean to disturb, but- my name is Zoey Malam. And… I hear this is a place people come to cry."

* * *

Life as a poltergeist was many things. Amusing. Boring. Exhausting. And busy. Peeves always felt that there were dozens of places he needed to be by some unspoken urge. Eternity was boring, and the joys of being a poltergeist had come at a cost. The gift of limited touch in the real world made him less stable than ghosts, barring him from their enduring memory of life and rationality.

The poetic thought ended in a chuckle as he finished piling owl pellets into in front of Professor Sybble's desk. With a cackle, Peeves soared out of the empty classroom and into the attics of the castle. A forgotten formula was on the blackboard and so he paused for a moment, reading it. That wasn't right, it was supposed to be-

-be like this! His mindset changed abruptly and he tossed paint at the cracked board, cackling again and phasing through the wall before the caretaker showed up.

The thrill of speedy flight and mischief were the world to him now, the only things left that helped him fill an eternity of broken trains of thought.

Peeves flew out the window, and with a hoot went screaming through the Owlery, sending owls of all sizes and colors panicking from their perches and chasing them through the air for a little while. His flight careened around the grounds, bringing him to rest atop one of the hoops of the quidditch pitch. No. Too sunny.

More flight! Peeves was brought to rest in the greenhouse to gather his thoughts! Much better- Darker- And filled with the smell of fresh manure.

Nope, soaring again, cracking a glass panel in the roof as he rocketed away- Back into the castle, skimming past the magics of the halls he had inhabited for unknown years, past the dreary lives of interchangeable mortal faces.

The Poltergeist cackled endlessly. It had been a long time since he had faced mortality. After so long, the labyrinthian school had become familiar as his own coat. Even the unique magics of the students he passed all felt the same.

 _-Except that student!_

Peeves came to a breaking halt in the corridor, reaching out to feel for the source of Bwue's magic. Bwue's bubble had never been this big before, but he still recognized it. A mirror lake in the sea of churning magics Hogwarts' housed. He eased into it with the care and caution of a mortal approaching something hot. It wasn't as steady as usual, but at the same time the calming effect was more potent. Like a warm bath after getting caught in a hailstorm.

Peeves found a pipe in the wall, and followed it to the source. He came out of the pipe expecting to find Bwue. He found Myrtle instead. Floating near the ceiling of the room

A ghost. A constant in eternity.

Mischief piped in - and fun to tease!

Instinctively, Peeves opened his mouth to recite a poetic jibe- because those were the only kinds that really mattered- but stopped when he saw the purple rat. It had pushed open the door to the bathroom - hey, they were in a bathroom!- and was making its way towards the stalls.

Towards Bwue.

Peeves remembered his purpose, and drew close to Myrtle to get the lay of the room.

Bwue was gold today, laying against a wall. She had her arms firmly wrapped around herself, her knees against her chest as her face scrunched.

Peeves thought Bwue wooked swick. A long forgotten emotion of- _caring_ came into his mind. He moved forward, but his action was beaten by the purple rat.

It scurried up to Bwue and nudged her a few times, working for attention. When she did notice him she scooped the pet into her arms despite its prickly nature as her expression wandered between pain, sadness and plain exhaustion. The rodent was doing its best to smooth it's quills, but she still held it so tight small drops of blood mixed with her silent flowing tears.

 _Tears_? Peeves dropped a couple inches through the air before remembering that he was floating. His mind, fragmented by centuries of overlapping memories, tried to process this. _Tears? Tears._ _What helped tears…?_

Laughter, something answered, and Peeves had an idea. He could make a waterfight! He was already halfway into the wall to explode the plumbing when reason piped in that a crying girl wouldn't want sewage water spraying over her. Frustrated, the blue poltergeist hit the wall with a walking stick as he tried to get reason to tell him what he should do instead.

Bwue hiccuped loudly in response to the sound, and Myrtle instantly flew up to Peeves and pulled him across the wall and into the empty hallway. "Peeves!" She hissed, only trembling slightly in the presence of the immortal being who'd tormented her for most of her ghostly life. "Don't you _dare_ make a ruckus! Leave her alone."

"Peeves doesn't wants to leaves. Peeves wants to stay, he does." He didn't like leaving the circle of Bwue's magic. Besides, Bwue was crying. A gentleman should never leave a girl in tears.

…The poltergeist pointedly ignored- or perhaps forgot- that he hadn't been considered a gentleman in a long time.

Both spirits folded their arms and glared at the other for a moment, then Myrtle, quite the expert on crying, declared "Nobody needs a- a peeve when they're upset, Peeves! She needs some time to cry and feel better!"

Instead of mocking her or leaving he perked up at the words, nodding slowly. Then Peeves asked in his usual loud manner "What else?"

"Eh?" Myrtle blinked behind her ghostly glasses. "What else what?"

"What else does helps Bwue get better? Peeves doesn't like her being a fretter…" he frowned at his own grammar, and for the first time disapproved of rhyming, something he'd been quite fond of for the past… century or so? Peeves thinks? Times was hard to hold on to.

"De-aiii-uhhh… pets?" Something fluffy to cuddle was always nice when people were crying.

"Okay!" The poltergeist flipped over with excitement, going toward a window. He would get Bwue a pet! That would fix her! Wait… no… she already had a pet with her. The purple rat. Peeves came to a screeching stop, spinning back to Myrtle and asking urgently "What else?"

Myrtle was floored. In her near-century of ghostly existence, she had _never_ even _heard_ of Peeves listening to reason. The closest he'd ever come had been his salute to the infamous Weasley twins twenty five years ago, and even that had merely been a promise for mayhem. Her chest puffed with pride over being the first to reason with Peeves. She huffed slightly- it was to be expected of course. As a Ravenclaw she could make anyone see reason.

She eventually realized Peeves was chanting his query almost desperately, tugging at the ends of his maroon coat. "What else, what else, what else, what-"

What else indeed? Myrtle had never before had the option to _help_ the people who cried in her bathroom. All she could do was offer them quiet privacy. It wasn't like she had the option to hug them or bring them anything. She couldn't do anything because she was- dead. She reflexively sniffled at the thought that used to send her into hysterics, now only saddened.

It was about time she got over her life, Myrtle knew that. She shouldn't have sulked for eighty years, but in those many years of crying and well, 'moaning', there was one comfort she'd always missed. "Ice cream," she said softly, the longing clear in her voice. "Chocolate Ice Cream."

"Okay!" The poltergeist flipped in the air again, going back toward the window. He would get Bwue some ice cream! That would fix her! Peeves paused for a moment this time to make sure she didn't already have ice cream, then flew away.

Flying! Soaring! He managed to hold on to his focus along the way- _only_ tipping over ten suits of armor on his flight- before bursting up through the bottom of the kitchen. "Peeves needs-" In his eagerness Peeves mistimed his materialization and knocked a table with his head, his momentum flipping it and all its food across the ceiling. Wait, no, the ceiling he'd come through was now the floor. Peeves had trouble remembering the difference as he no longer used them.

The house elves cried out in horror as their hard work on Slytherin's lunch went to waste, scrambling around to both clean and hurriedly cook more. There was a wave of finger snaps and pops as they frantically tried to use their magic to clean the mess and set pots and pans heating once again.

A line of them tried to make a wall between the poltergeist and their work, determinedly brandishing small brooms like spears. The house elves had fought with Peeves many a time over the past few centuries, but _this_ time he would not ruin their work!

"Peeves needs- needs-" he frowned at the distracting noises, grabbing the ends of his coat again. He had come for something, he was sure of it.

One of the house elves, in her haste, slipped on a pile of mashed potatoes. The clean trays that she'd carried clattered from her hands and fell, their sound echoing in silence as all eyes turned to watch.

Mischief bubbled up inside him. This was the perfect setting for a- "Foodfight!" Peeves cackled with glee, easily floating past the 'guards' who blocked his way and scooped up a handful of peas. "Catch!"

They weren't very good at this- they ducked to the side instead of staying to catch. Maybe they needed something bigger. He picked up a goblet and threw it next, the item making a solid 'clunk' as one elf ducked only for it to hit another that had been behind him. The struck elf fell over in a feint, and the rest swarmed forward in determination to make the poltergeist leave.

Peeves cackled and flipped over in the air, avoiding their spells with ease and returning any projectile he could get a ghostly hand on, be it food, goblet, or utensil. He missed the magical workers more often then he hit, but soon discovered that they'd take any blow if it meant protecting the three tables of unblemished lunch.

Cackling with glee at his discovered trick, Peeves started actively targeting the perfectly-set meals knowing that an elf or two always leaped forward to take the blow instead. Running out of small projectiles, he started grabbing large pots and pans from the kitchens. Some of them were hot- scalding even- but the poltergeist had no concept of temperature and therefore wasn't bothered, though the elves seemed to be. One apparated out of the way of thrown soup, then wailed and broke down in tears when he saw a stain on the tablecloth.

The blue spirit floated over to the dessert table, picking up a beautifully crafted two tiered cake. As it flew through the air Peeves cried "Have your cakes and eats it too!"

There were echoing screams from the throats the small house-elves before there was a crack of old magic and the cake stopped it's dreaded journey towards demise. One of the oldest house-elves of Hogwarts, Winky, stepped back into the kitchens. She had aging bags under her eyes and her tomato-sized nose was drooping as well, but her bat-like ears were attentive as she floated the prized dessert to safety.

He frowned. Well that was no fun! He picked up something new to throw instead, vaguely aware of the cold temperature when someone else entered behind Winky.

"Peeves!" The Gryffindor ghost cried as he floated inside the kitchens, looking properly cross. "What is the meaning of this?"

Furtively hiding his next projectile behind his back, Peeves blinked as he remembered he'd come for a reason other than foodfights- fun!- but still important. "Peeves needs- Peeves needs-" what did he need?

"You'll get your moldy bread at the end of the day, like your contract says." Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington quoted the 1876 contract between the poltergeist and Hogwarts staff. "Now put that back before I get the Baron."

Baron- Bloody Baron! He hurriedly shook his head, not wanting to attract the ire of the scary Slytherin ghost. He fumbled in his haste to put the ice cream back on the table. Hey- Ice cream! Bwue! He picked up the tub and held it to his chest protectively. Bwue needed this ice cream.

Nick sighed in frustration. "Peeves there's no time for this- Rose Weasley is bawling her eyes out in my tower, and I need to make sure she's properly attended."

Crying? Another crying? Peeves tilted his head, the recently remembered emotion of caring coming back despite his lack of association with the young Weezle. "Why?"

"It seems she and another girl got into quite the row in the Great Hall this morning. I don't know why this Zoey girl had a problem with Rose, but they've both been issued detentions until Christmas Break. She's near hysterics imaging what her parents will say- I remember Hermione, bright girl. Never would have gotten in trouble like this."

"Double trouble," Peeves mumbled, realizing the girls had made eachother cry. Weezle had made Bwue cry. He frowned at the idea.

"From what I hear seems it was an honest mistake-" Nick was babbling, obviously trying to make sense of what he'd heard and thinking that nobody in the room was interested in the topic. "Rose accidentally started a rumor about Zoey, and…"

At that point Peeves did lose interest, hearing nothing else the nobleman ghost had to say. Rose had intentionally made Bwue sad. Rose had hurt Bwue. Rose was the reason Bwue was crying. Rose, Rose, Rose… he chanted in his mind as he flew away from the kitchens, rushing back to the Second Floor bathroom. The return trip took longer because he couldn't float the pilfered item through the wall, but he stubbornly held on to his thoughts the whole way.

He proudly presented the tub of ice cream to Myrtle- who gave her approval for him to carry it inside to the crying Bwue- and dropped it in front of the girl, nervously watching and waiting for it to fix her. It made a heavy thump on the ground.

Zoey jumped at the sound and Rasputin hissed in distaste when the sudden motion made her prick herself deeper on his quills, the purple murtlap glaring at the poltergeist.

"Ice for Bwue," Peeves mumbled, taking his hat off as a show of respect.

She sniffed a few times, looking at the five-gallon jug of pumpkin ice cream that had been placed at her feet. "Thanks." Zoey eventually said in a wavering voice, rubbing her face dry.

The poltergeist looked between her and his gift, now wringing his hat in his hands as he waited for it to work. The hat had been made by Bonhabille, he suddenly remembered. A name that had been lost to Peeves for a long while now.

"Um, Peeves…" Zoey interrupted his thoughts, looking up at him with green eyes. "Did- did you bring a bowl? Or a spoon?"

His eyes went comically wide before his expression fell. She was going to _eat_ the ice- _that's_ how it would fix her! And he'd messed up! Bwue would never get better now…

Amazingly Peeves heard a giggle, then a snort, and Zoey put a hand over her twitching mouth. "You're a real sweetie pie Peeves, has anyone ever told you that?"

Air literally blasted from the poltergeist's ears with the force of his embarrassment and Peeves dashed around a few times, nearly as frantic as the kitchen elves had been. Nobody- nobody had ever called him that! Had they…? He had a distant notion that someone might have once upon a time, but in any case it had been so so long ago that he had no memory of how to react. He lost hold of his magic and was buried in a mountain of walking sticks, putting some away only for more to slip out and bop him on the head.

Myrtle's bathroom echoed with smothered giggles again, and Zoey tried to hold in her rising laughter at his antics. It had been a long day though and her emotions were far from stable, and soon she lost the fight. Her laughter started ringing for a few blessed moments as she looked between him and the thoughtful gift, which would undoubtedly melt and make a mess without her ever having a bite. Unless she stuck her head in the tub and stuffed her face, but Zoey wasn't that fond of pumpkin flavor anyways and she was just so _happy_ that someone had gone out of their way for her. Right now she'd take any silver lining she could get.

Peeves continued flitting around in confusion before smiling impossibly wide. Laughter helped tears! The ice had worked! He settled down a few inches above the floor- ceiling- floor, he firmly remembered, and managed not to panic when her laughter mixed with tears again.

He had helped Bwue, Peeves thought in triumph, but not enough. Someone had made Bwue cry, and that was not allowed. That wasn't right. While his mind was still calmed in the presence of Bwue's magic he tried to cement the thought and memory, not wanting to forget again when they separated.

 _Rose Weezle… Rose Weasley… Rose. Weasley._

* * *

 _Phew! Made it! Now, it's my birthday week, so- *_ imitates Madam Hootch* _-I want a nice,_ LONG _review! From all of you!_

 _... actually don't need it to be nice just want it to be honest. I am open to Rose-bashing and any other possible complaints ;)_

 _-E_

 _ps- also, if there's any other ff authors out there who can suggest a good way to break sections mid chapter I'd apprectiate it. FFic is disappearing my lines for some reason..._


	26. Ch 26 Can't Be Unseen

**Ch 26- Can't Be Unseen**

* * *

McGonagall was not acting normal. The usually stern faced woman- for all her wrinkles- had never looked this soft before. And the Headmaster portraits were whispering about something, sliding into each other's frames to avoid being overheard. Then the Headmistress gestured for him to sit and even offered him a cup of tea. _Tea_ from McGonagall.

That was about the time that he decided he needed to know what in Merlin's name was going on here. Not, of course, that Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy said it so callously. A Malfoy would never be so uncouth. "Ma'am, why have you brought me here? I was unaware that I'd done anything wrong…"

"Oh no, nothing of that nature." McGonagall agreed, sipping her own cup. "It's… a matter outside of school, I'm afraid. Have you received any letters from your parents?"

"Not from today- owls hadn't arrived by the time I left the hall." He put his untouched tea back down, not really liking the beverage anyways. "Should I expect something?"

"Most likely." She said, obviously trying to make some sort of assessment as she looked at him over the rim of her glasses.

Scorpius allowed himself a small frown as he tried to imagine what could have happened at home that would bring him to his school Headmaster. Had something happened to Lucius? Last he'd heard his condition hadn't been improving much at all… "Is my grandfather all right?"

"Yes, yes your family is perfectly safe." McGonagall immediately assured, picking up the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that had been facedown on her desk. "But… well, it seems that someone broke into your Manor. I did not want you to be in the Great Hall when the word spread."

He stood up and took the offered newspaper, reading the headline article.

 _ **MUGGLES AT MALFOY MANOR**_

 _ **(A DAILY PROPHET EXCLUSIVE.)**_

 _ **LAST NIGHT A RAID BY PERPETRATORS UNKNOWN WAS CONDUCTED AGAINST MALFOY MANOR.**_

 _ **LITTLE IS KNOWN ABOUT THE ATTACK, BUT WHEN REPORTERS GOT TO THE SCENE, NO LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR MUGGLES WERE GATHERED ON THE GROUNDS OF MALFOY ESTATE. ALL WERE BAFFLED BY THE LARGE MANSION THAT THEY THOUGHT HAD BEEN BUILT OVERNIGHT. AS BAFFLED, IT WOULD SEEM, AS THE AURORS AND OTHER MINISTRY OFFICIALS TRYING TO CONTROL THEM.**_

 _ **FEW CONCRETE DETAILS HAVE BEEN REVEALED IN THE HOURS SINCE THIS RECENT ATTACK CAME TO LIGHT. INVESTIGATORS SUGGEST THAT THERE WAS A BREAK IN DURING THE NIGHT IN QUESTION, DURING WHICH THE PROTECTIVE BARRIER HIDING THE CENTURY-OLD ESTATE WAS BROKEN. OBLIVIATORS HAVE BEEN WORKING NON-STOP TO CONTAIN THE VIRAL SPREAD OF THIS UNPRECEDENTED PHENOMENON.**_

 _ **HARRY POTTER, HEAD OF THE AUROR DEPARTMENT, ALSO REFUSED AN INTERVIEW. EVEN SO, THE PRESENCE OF SUCH A HIGH RANKING MINISTRY OFFICIAL AT THE SCENE SPEAKS TO THE IMPORTANCE THE WIZARDING GOVERNMENT IS PLACING IN THIS INVESTIGATION. UNSUBSTANTIATED RUMORS ABOUND IN THE AFTERMATH, RANGING FROM DARK MAGICAL EXPERIMENTS IN THE DEPTHS OF THE MANOR GOING TERRIBLY WRONG TO ACTIVISTS AND ZEALOTS STILL ANGRY AT THE FOLLOWERS OF YOU-KNOW-WHO SEEKING REVENGE. AT THIS TIME, NEITHER OF THESE SEEMS LIKELY OR SUPPORTED BY THE FACTS OF THE SITUATION, AND THE OTHER RUMORS SWIRLING ABOUT REMAIN JUST THAT; RUMORS.**_

 _ **ONLY A HANDFUL NON-ESSENTIAL PERSONNEL HAVE BE ALLOWED TO STAY ON THE GROUNDS IN THE AFTERMATH. LITTLE IS KNOWN ABOUT THE ACTUAL EVENTS. THE ONLY POSSIBLE WITNESS, THEIR HOUSE-ELF SKIPSY, WAS FOUND DEAD AT THE SCENE. DRACO MALFOY, ACTING HEAD OF THE MALFOY FAMILY SINCE HIS FATHER LUCIUS FELL ILL SOME MONTHS AGO, DECLINED TO COMMENT. ALL THAT IS KNOWN IS THAT THE MALFOYS HAVE NOT ENTERED A REPORT OF THEFT, AND NEITHER DRACO NOR ASTORIA MALFOY WERE PRESENT IN THEIR HOME AT THE TIME OF THE INCIDENT. THE MINISTER OF MAGIC HAS REQUESTED THAT REPORTERS HAVE LIMITED ACCESS TO THE BACK OF THE GROUNDS TO AVOID ATTRACTING MORE MUGGLES AND CONTAMINATING EVIDENCE.**_

 _ **THE PROPHET IS KEEPING REPORTERS ON THE SCENE, AND WILL GIVE A FULL ACCOUNT OF THE OFFICIAL STATEMENTS BY THE MINISTRY AND THE MALFOY FAMILY (IF ANY ARE GIVEN) AS SOON AS RECEIVED. MORE UPDATES TO COME IN THE EVENING COPY OF THE PROPHET.**_

 _ **UNTIL THEN, THIS IS HEAD JOURNALIST LEE JORDAN, SIGNING OFF.**_

A chill permeated his bones as Scorpius sat back down, holding the paper loosely in his hands. "Skipsy's dead?"

The portraits murmured at bit, the older ones in disapproval of concern over an elf when he had an entire Manor to defend from muggles, but the newer ones- Dumbledore especially- flashing looks of silent praise.

McGonagall glanced at her predecessors before addressing her shell-shocked student. She pushed the tea back toward him. "Take your time, Mister Malfoy. You may stay in here for as long as you like- I shall inform your Professors that today you have my permission to miss their classes."

This time Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy took the cup, staring at the article in his lap until he was sure that he'd never forget the words. It didn't have much useful information, but it was all he had to work off for the moment. At least it had been written by Lee Jordan- the Journalist was well known for only reporting the truth, and if _he_ said there'd been no sign of Dark Arts involved with the break in then many would believe it.

… unless, of course, James bloody Potter started making false claims about the subject. He'd done it in the past- claiming he knew the deepest details of Ministry Investigations even though that would cost even Harry Potter himself his position if it were true. Claiming that Scorpius's father, who'd always hated the Potters, still had Ministry Officials in his pocket to sweep investigations under the rug.

That was hogwash of course, Scorpius sneered silently. No self-respecting tactician would risk losing a source of valuable information by putting them in such a dangerous position.

But such rumors had worked wonders to persuade the student body in the past, and he knew that he and his friends were in for a rough few weeks until things died down. Scorpius sipped the tea, not really tasting it but still appreciating the warmth.

Naturally, he wasn't _just_ analysing the implications. Underneath the young Malfoy was worrying about his parents and shaken to the core to hear that Skipsy was… gone. Dead, he corrected, not allowing himself the comfort of the distancing word. The house-elf had been part of his whole life, coming to Malfoy Manor with Astoria after marriage. The pair had been friends more than anything else. Scorpius had woken many a times to the smell of his mother and Skipsy baking home-recipe pancakes together…

His throat clenched, and Scorpius hid it by lifting the rim to his lips and pretending it was another swallow. Lucius had left the house- which, admittedly, made it far more peaceful if uncomfortably quiet- and now, not only had it been invaded by perpetrators unknown but a key part of his childhood had been ripped away as well.

What had happened to his home?

* * *

Harry hadn't felt sorry for Draco Malfoy in a very, very long time. Perhaps ever. But as he stood on the Malfoy Estate, watching his Aurors comb through every bit of the man's life for evidence while reporters eagerly watched and waited like jackals and muggles were being _obliviated_ right on his doorstep, there was no way not to feel sorry for the pale man that had grown from his sneering classmate.

Even if the sneer had seemingly grown with him.

"Be careful with that," Draco Malfoy scowled and watched one of the Curse-Breaker's test his silverware. "It's antique."

Astoria was at his side, holding his hand as she looked around with hollow eyes. The normally diplomatic woman hadn't said a word since they'd found Skipsy's body. It had been obvious that some kind of fight had occurred- the room had been tossed and cushions shredded, but the elf herself didn't have a mark on her, sitting comfortably on a chair as though she'd get up any moment. The current theory was that she'd been hit by an Unforgivable.

The Curse-Breaker in question shrank a little under the oppressive gaze. Although Curse-Breakers were regularly employed by the Auror Division their usual cases involved confiscated evidence or ancient enchantments. It was very rare that they interacted with the actual owners of the items they tested, or faced their ire.

Harry stepped up and gave the man a supportive pat on the back, turning to Malfoy. "You're only slowing down our work."

"Oh _forgive_ me for being worried about the china my family has had since the eighteen hundreds." Draco drawled, running his hand through his thinning hair as he looked around the kitchen. The enlarged cabinets seemed to have been tampered with by the intruder, as they'd all shrunk and regurgitated their contents all over the room. Shards littered the floor and the glass tabletop had been cracked as had some of the tile, but nothing was to be fixed until every scratch had been catalogued by the Ministry.

"I don't think I will, Malfoy." Harry snapped, his short-lived patience dying with his empathies. "Considering that you haven't been forthcoming with suspects or even opened the entire manor to our investigations."

"I'm sure you already have enough suspects." Draco pointed out condescendingly, his grip on Astoria tightening. "We have entered dozens of reports of wizards spying on us and submitting faulty accounts about our 'Dark' experiments. I'm sure you remember storming our mansion eight years ago, only to find that the 'screaming sacrifices' we were 'torturing' were in fact Scorpius and his friends playing monster while Astoria _tried_ to host a tea party."

Harry winced at the reminder. They'd been much more careful to screen complaints regarding Malfoy Manor since that day… the real question was if he'd properly sorted the paperwork…

"Darling," Astoria spoke, her voice soft and echoey. "I'll watch them. You should go check on your work."

Draco looked at her and then swore under his breath at the reminder. He only paused to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek, sneering at Harry's look of utter shock at the affectionate gesture before leaving the room.

Harry Potter blinked at the woman who'd somehow won the heart of his nemesis as though wanting an explanation for the uncharacteristic behavior, but Astoria just waved her hand in a little 'shoo' motion. "Go on. Aren't you supposed to be watching him?"

Right, he was. The Head of the Auror department turned and went off after Draco Malfoy, ducking around and over many messes in the hallways.

Malfoy Manor was not a good place to Harry. After seeing it through Voldemort's eyes so many times he would have hated the home even if he hadn't been imprisoned here himself, however briefly.

Harry had watched Nagini the snake slide under that door. Down those stairs was the cellar Ollivander and Luna had been imprisoned in and Pettigrew had died. Through these doors was the drawing room where Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured Hermione, same place where Voldemort had tortured Bathilda Bagshot. Where Bellatrix had stabbed Dobby. After a bad day he sometimes dreamt the memories, sometimes saw his friends and children and family- Ginny- floating above his head, between him and that horribly gaudy chandelier…

As Draco pulled out a key Harry braced himself mentally for what would be on the other side of the door, but he still wasn't prepared.

It was like stepping back into Snape's classroom. Cauldrons and vials were set up around and atop tables, liquids ready to dilute and evaporate and sift through what Harry was sure was every size of erlenmeyer flask and pipette and beaker that had ever been created. Notes and quills were poised for use at every desk.

The once-open room was now drawn closed, dark curtains blocking the light windows and bookshelf upon bookshelf crammed along edges of the room. They were all different shapes and colors, as though they'd been added one at a time as they became needed with no mind toward their aesthetics. Many had been turned into impromptu storage for a variety of potions ingredients.

Draco relit some of the magical torches, further illuminating the cluttered but organized workspace. In the corner a small table was pressed against the only open windowsill, an unfinished game of chess awaiting its owners.

"What is this place?" Harry asked in awe, looking around.

"My house, Potter. Do try and keep up."

Not quite sure if that was an insult or if it had actually been an attempt at a joke, Harry ignored the comment. "But what kind of laboratory is this? What do you do in here?"

"Torture children and sacrifice kittens." This time Draco's sarcasm was more obvious, though he sobered as he checked through a shelf of hand-bound books to make sure none were missing. "Various concoctions and potions to maintain my skills as I research Lycanthropy. I've found that mixing wolfsbane with higher level alchemic components produces some interesting results. I'm trying to gather enough evidence to petition the Potions Board."

"What kind of interesting results?"

"Reverses it, essentially." He opened one of the bound collections of his notes over the years and nodded, seemingly pleased as his eyes quickly scanned the contents. "And before you say it Potter, I am well aware that this is likely the reason for the rumors about my home being full of dark experiments. Experiments yes, I will wholeheartedly admit to- but never Dark."

Harry finally pulled his eyes from the much-changed room, eased by the modifications to his surroundings. Even if the Malfoys had replaced the table and chairs and that horrible chandelier with new ones, different ones, the place could never have stepped out of the shadows of what it had once been. Not without giving it an entirely new purpose, as it had been.

Briefly, he wondered if that had been Malfoy's reasoning as well.

"We'll need to confirm that-" he started saying, but was cut off as Draco snapped his notes shut with an echoing - _smack!_

"My work is under protected confidentiality by the Research Protection Act of the International Alchemy Association. You will not touch it, Potter."

Damn Slytherin pride getting in the way, Harry swore. "I'm not out to steal your patent Malfoy. But your intruder might have been."

"And I will know if a single sheet of a single book was taken or tampered. Then, and _only_ then, will I tell you what went missing. Besides, even if I wanted to show you my records-" which Draco Malfoy very obviously didn't, "-I cannot do so without express permission from the Centre for Alchemical Studies. In Egypt."

"In-" Harry knew that the Malfoy connections had always had a long reach, but this was just getting ridiculous. "Since when have you had contacts in _Egypt?_ "

"Since I introduced him."

Harry stiffened and spun around at the unfamiliar voice, Auror reflexes instantly putting his wand in his hand.

The person in the doorway was tall, with spidery limbs but somehow still not spindly. He wore a muggle three-piece suit with a gold chain dangling from a pocket or two. His black hair was slicked back in the greasy way Draco had once worn his, but on this man it had the intended effect, giving him a regal bearing as the tips touched his collar. The force of his presence made even Malfoy Manor look dingy and unkempt, his dark gaze devouring voids as they examined everything before him. Altogether, he looked like he could have passed as Lucius Malfoy's dark twin.

His voice was smooth and pleasant as cream and sugar when he spoke, his accent American. "What did you think a man of Draco's ambitions did all day, twiddle his thumbs and count his gold? When I was informed of his interests and assessed his talent in the area, I made sure the people in the right places knew as well."

The man was unarmed. But Harry didn't lower his wand, nor did he dismiss the three Aurors that had accompanied the man's intrusion into the manor. The four Ministry Officials, to Draco's obvious amusement, were all armed and watching his guest like a circle of hawks. "I was wondering when you'd arrive. Bit later than normal."

"It's a bit hard to act upon information before it's shared." His voice was perfectly kind as he spoke with the Malfoy Patriarch, even if it sent chills up Harry's back. "Imagine my surprise when I read this morning's paper. I nearly dropped my ice cream."

The British Aurors looked at each other in mild confusion at the comment.

"Oh forgive me, where are my manners. Head of the Aurors, Boy Who Lived, Chosen One… this is Xavier Avery. Xavier, I presume you've heard of him?"

The Ministry stiffened in defense of their Head. Draco's exaggeration of titles and removal of his name had obviously been a slight toward Harry Potter. The man himself waved it off though, well used to such a barb from his old nemesis but warmed as always by their loyalty.

"Heard of him? We went to school together." Xavier flashed white teeth. "Though he never knew me in those days. Two years older and moreover a Slytherin, I don't suppose I was really his type."

"Not that such logic would stop every ninny from here to Dublin from boasting about it."

"Hm, no. It's quite funny actually… ask them who he fancied as a child and they'll fall over themselves trying to make you believe it was them at some point. Even some of the blokes." He raised ebony eyebrows a few times in amusement, laughing at the memory.

Harry looked between the two men that were cordially mocking his fame right in front of him and smiling as though they were discussing weather.

Xavier Avery's casual prowl had finally reached the pair, and he offered a trimmed hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Harry Potter. Chosen One, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord and Britain's Head of the Auror Department." He finished the statement with a nod of respect, all traces of amusement gone and replaced with sincerity.

This man wasn't really like Lucius, Harry realized. While Xavier Avery might have the presence and bearing of Lucius Malfoy in his prime, the ex-Death Eater could never have shown even a modicum of respect for anything that wasn't pure wizard. After another moment he lowered his wand to shake the hand of the man whose mugshot had adorned the Auror Office his entire career.

His Aurors stiffened as they continued to wearily watch Xavier, the elusive mastermind who had been suspected of more crimes and Dark magicks than anyone else in the past decade, but somehow avoided every conviction. Never once had a piece of evidence or witness account ever been tied to him.

Harry expected such a puppetmaster to be cold and bony. Instead the grip of the Avery Patriarch was soft and warm, firm but not aggressive for the few seconds of contact. Onyx eyes met emerald, then turned away and casually strolled the room, clasping his hands together behind his back.

Calmly dismissing the Aurors that continued to dog his every step, Xavier Avery thoroughly examined every item of the lab with his eyes. After a few moments, he called out "Draco." and lifted a hand, twitching his fingers in suggestion for his fellow Pureblood to come look at something. To Harry's surprise Malfoy moved across the room without hesitation. "Isn't this cauldron supposed to be simmering?"

The blond looked up from his notes and cursed, inspecting the cauldron in question. "But this isn't- I thought you said this was the best on the market!"

"Off the market, actually." Xavier corrected mildly, rubbing his chin in a way that made Harry wonder if the man had once had a beard. He would have to check their observation records. "Tailor-made to match your requirements."

"I required it to maintain that flame for another six hours before I added the wyrmroot and raised it to a boil!"

"What's so wrong?" Harry asked, a bit annoyed that the pair was dancing around the larger issue to fret over a bit of liquid. "Just turn it back on."

"What is 'wrong', Potter, is that I've had this potion on a constant simmer for five weeks. Now I'll have to start over- _and_ get a cauldron that'll actually do its job!"

Rather than being insulted over the jab Xavier just nodded mildly. "I'll inform the appropriate people."

"Thank you." Draco said tersely, "See, Potter? _That_ is how you make yourself useful."

"I _am_ the appropriate people, Malfoy." Harry said in a matching tone, not one to boast but as usual unerringly competitive with his old rival.

"Quite right." Xavier agreed mildly. "Sir, I'd like to report that there's something very wrong with Malfoy Manor."

"I was aware."

"Are you?" His voice, though still amicable, had turned to the mocking condensation of someone who held hostage something valuable. _Information broker,_ Harry remembered the man's self-proclaimed title, and admitted it very fitting. Onyx eyes turned to Draco and lips raised in a humorless smile. "Ah. So you've noticed at last?"

Draco Malfoy was looking at his lab with fresh eyes, his blue-grey gaze flitting between vials and flasks of still potions. Finding that the quick-quotes quills were laying quietly on the tabletops instead of moving with the constant notes they'd been instructed to take, that the liquids were not steaming nor sifting nor pouring as they should have been.

"Noticed what?" Harry asked, feeling like he'd missed something important even as he watched Draco run out of the room.

Xavier Avery turned and meandered after him, the Aurors walking after him as well. "Well Potter, what has been damaged in this Manor?"

Not wanting to give the Dark Wizard any more information, Harry asked instead of answered "What have you seen so far?"

"Weeelll… enlarged closets that overflowed, everlight torches snuffed out, the barrier hiding this manor broken, a house elf killed without a mark…" his voice held a surprising amount of retribution for the killing, considering that Xavier Avery was a pureblood. "And of course, the cauldron whose creator I personally know has never made a faulty product ceases to work. See any similarities yet?"

Draco Malfoy was stopped in a long hallway that held the portraits of his family for the past ten centuries, staring. It took Harry a moment to realize what was wrong.

It had taken years, as a child, to become accustomed to the people in pictures moving and breathing as though alive. Now Harry found it even more unnerving to see them frozen. The portrayed Malfoys were turned to each other as though any moment they would start talking again, some even laughing or sneering their last comments.

The three men walked down the hall as though mesmerised, seeing a change on the oil scenes as they walked through ten centuries of family history. After the first few still portraits the next hung empty, only for their subjects to be caught and trapped while fleeing through the abodes of their neighbors. Then there were some who seemed to be horrified, screaming, and finally a crowd of Malfoy's ancestors had pressed together, trapped in the last portrait. Some hugged the portraitures of their spouses, others hid their faces, a few stared from the out of frame in defiance but more seemed to be begging, their desperation and defeat a silent accusation against the three men who now saw them.

"It wasn't just the concealment barrier." Draco Malfoy murmured under his breath, looking lost. Xavier Avery nodded sagely and finished the thought, straightening his gold cufflinks.

"It wasn't just the concealing barrier. It was all of them. Every bit of magic in this building- of this entire Malfoy Estate… is gone."

* * *

Schools were funny things. They seemed so boring- such a drag from day to day- until something big happened, got everyone's attention, and then… they still dragged.

Albus Severus Potter bounced his quill on the parchment he was supposed to be taking notes with, having long ago ceased listening to his Muggle Studies class. He kept glancing to the clock, feeling the second hand was most certainly slower than it should have been.

He should have run after Zoey, he thought to himself. It didn't matter that the Head Boy had been with her, he should have made sure she was okay. Albus hoped she was okay- she'd looked hurt when she'd left the Great Hall, scared almost.

Rose on the other hand was downright terrified. When Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron heard about this… There was going to be a lot of yelling. Albus winced in sympathy, then shook his head. He shouldn't be sympathetic. Family or not Rose, like James, had crossed a line that should never ever be crossed. He should be mad with her.

Problem was, Albus Severus Potter still didn't know how to be mad. He had yet to fully discover what his brand of anger was like, but he definitely wasn't very good at it. His treacherous mind, though certainly concerned about Zoey, was equally worried about his cousin-and-friend.

She had looked destroyed by the end of Zoey's accusations.

… this was not how his day was supposed to have gone. He was not supposed to be worried about the mental stability and sanity of his close friends and his… crush? He sighed, wishing there was a better word for it as he rolled the quill thoughtfully between his fingers. Albus was supposed to have a nice, normal breakfast with a nice, normal conversation about nice, normal things like _oh yeah Zoey do you know I like you or not?_ And then worry about whatever her answer would have been.

On second thought, Albus would readily confess that a part of him was relieved that _that_ conversation hadn't happened. Though he definitely did _not_ like the way breakfast had gone instead.

When that Ravenclaw had told them that Lysander let Rose into Ravenclaw Tower he'd thought 'not a chance'. None at all- no way would Lysander Scamander, Ravenclaw Prefect and all around model child, do something like that. He hadn't even wanted to pass on the rumor, but then Lily had gone and asked anyways and Zoey, it seemed, had realized something they hadn't.

She'd looked physically ill as she left her breakfast, and though Zoey had waved off his concern Albus had followed her anyways. He'd stayed back in confusion when she'd stopped at his House Table instead of the Hospital Wing, giving himself a prime view to see and hear the entire exchange.

He had no idea if he should have stepped in. Despite being in the middle of an audience it had been an awfully private subject. Albus Potter had ties to both girls, sure, but neither one had talked to him about the matter or invited him into the conversation.

He was starting to understand what Lily meant when she said he overthought things. But wasn't that what he should be doing as a Gryffindor? Albus should be brave enough to step in the middle of a teenage catfight. Instead his mind had analysed the situations much more like a… Slytherin's. The House the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in.

With practice Albus pushed that thought away. He'd never told anybody, and he'd always ignored any sign that perhaps the green-and-silver House suited him more than his family's.

Instead of stepping in to help the way Albus probably should have he'd watched like the rest of the school, horrified at first by Zoey's accusations and then by Rose's confession that it was _true._ After that he'd been too shell-shocked to try anything. Al still couldn't believe it. Rose Granger-Weasley was his best friend, and he knew that she had faults- she'd always been rather self-centered- but this was… beyond everything he'd ever seen of her. Even if he threw James Potter into the equation, it didn't add up.

There was more to her betraying Zoey than resentment over tutoring, more than an unsolved puzzle behind a 'transfer' and Rose failing to look beyond her own nose. Albus, with the instinct born of family, knew that there was something he was missing… something that Rose hadn't admitted.

And he was determined to find out what it was. He watched the clock ticking down, grabbing his bag and almost out the door before the bell had even rung. Albus left his parchment behind- he'd written barely two words and the metal quill-tip had poked holes through it anyways- and ignored the homework the Professor called out, figuring that if his Father had passed Hogwarts with Voldemort attacking him practically every year, then he could skip one assignment.

He had barely ten minutes between bells to cross the school and get to Rose before she started her next class- Care of Magical Creatures. Albus swallowed his nervous gulp and picked up his pace, wanting to find her before it became necessary for him to approach the magical beasts himself. The dangerous, hand-eating, fire spewing, beasts…

Ignoring a cold-sweat and the way his knees threatened to knock beneath his robes, Albus picked up his pace. Skipping down stairs and weaving through crowds until he reached the courtyard, he had barely caught sight of Rose and her friends when a voice echoed.

" _GOT YER CONK!"_ Peeves cried, swooping up from his hiding place and grabbing Rose Weasley's nose with such force he actually lifted her a few inches off the ground.

She gave a startled cry and her already watery gaze grew mistier as she grabbed her injured appendage, sniffing wetly. Other students backed away from the blue poltergeist, and Albus froze. While he was not scared of Hogwarts's poltergeist he was not particularly fond of him either. He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and started chewing.

" _Nosy Rosy!"_ The blue being rhymed, floating around her instead of moving on to new targets as he normally would. "Little Rosy got a Little Nosy, didn't she? Little Nosy hurts someone, doesn't it?"

"Leave me alone!" Rose cried, but it was more of a plea as she protectively kept her hands over her face.

Undeterred, Peeves pulled out a bowl of moldy peanuts, throwing them with expert aim to leave smelly stains and get stuck in her thick hair. "Lousy-Noisy-Nosy-Rosy!" His cackle echoed across the courtyard, the sound lacking its usual mischief.

People stopped to watch the Legacy vainly attempt to block the projectiles, failing rather miserably. Rose's eyes were streaming with tears.

Albus, watching his cousin, knew exactly what was going on in her head. She was embarrassed. Rose had always hated negative attention. And now it was happening to her not once but twice in a single day. As always she was melting under pressure, panicking, not even reaching for her wand even though she easily knew half a dozen spells that would send the poltergeist running.

He spit the gum he'd been chewing out of his mouth and flicked his wand, realizing that if the poltergeist didn't leave he'd never get the chance to talk to Rose. " _Waddiwasi!_ "

With the force of a bullet the wet wad of mint snack shot from Albus's hand and straight up Peeves's right nostril, making the floating poltergeist drop his ammo and zoom away, cursing.

Rose cringed under the wave of nuts that fell over her, and went from covering her nose to pinching it against the stench. She looked up at Albus as he approached, snapping "About time." in a nasally voice.

Albus frowned. He'd witnessed her defensive barbs many a times, but being on the receiving end of it wasn't particularly good for his mood at the moment. Even still, his treacherous mind could understand her desire to utter it as it was her way of feigning confidence. With the eyes of the school looking at her with expressions that varied from pity to condemnation and everything in between, he knew Rose would panic before of them as much if not more than she did because of the poltergeist.

He looked from the audience back to her and gave a start as he realized that she'd already started walking away to escape her audience. "Hey- wait! Rose!" Albus rushed after her. "I wanna talk to you!"

"Not now, Al. I've got class."

Albus breathed easier after she cleaned off the moldy peanuts with a spell. "But it's important-"

Rose spun around with enough speed that her hair lifted and fell in a thick wave, the sudden action making her cousin stagger so they didn't collide. "Well it can wait! I have class, Al. I don't have time for _ghosts_ or _questions_ or _poltergeists-_ " she took a quivering breath, holding back more tears. "Look, _thank you_ for that, but I really have to go. Just- I'll talk to you at the meeting."

He snapped his mouth shut, trying to hide his hurt at the dismissal. "What meeting?"

"Merlin. Don't you _ever_ check your coin?" Rose accused, and he dutifully reached deep into his bag for the fake galleon that resided there. It was hot to the touch and lightly burned his sticky fingers as he checked the day of the impending family meeting.

Monday night?! Why would it be so far- Albus cursed when he was hit by the epiphany. Of _course_ James would set the meeting for after the ruddy Gryffindor match against Slytherin. He wouldn't let anything get between him and his precious Quidditch Cup, and Albus stomped his foot in frustration with his conceited brother. It was only a scrimmage, it wouldn't even count. "Rose I just want to know-" he blinked as he looked up to find that Rose had _again_ walked away, leaving him alone without even a goodbye.

Albus had tried to talk to her, even told her it was important. Rose was clever enough to realize how much of a detour he must have taken to get the opportunity to meet her in the scant few minutes, but instead of acknowledging his urgency she'd ignored it. Ignored him.

Harry Potter's second son saw red as he clenched the coin tighter in his hand, and only started moving again when he realized that though he was stilled by the anger festering inside him time was still moving everywhere else. Instead of rushing after Rose he turned toward the castle for his next elective, responding on the coin to promise he'd be there before he deftly shoved it out of sight.

He was tired of being treated as a pest, a nuisance. He knew he was seen as a crybaby by his family and perhaps he had once been but as he walked into the dungeons he made the decision to never be again. Not if it meant being so solidly dismissed out of hand.

No, Albus Severus Potter did not know how to be mad.

But he was learning.

* * *

"Of course it'd be _our_ lunch." Zambini grumbled to his empty plate. Word had spread around the hall that Peeves had disrupted the kitchens, and while everyone's meal had been delayed as a result Slytherin's were still waiting.

The only thing that arrived so far were the side dishes. Scorpius looked dispassionately at the vegetables, tempted to take a page out of Zambini's book and stab some peas to release his frustration. If frustration was even the right word anymore; after leaving McGonagall's office he'd been emitting a carefully constructed calm.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy did not respond to the whispers, or the jabs thrown at him from across the halls. He did not react to the accusations about his family finally getting their due, or the conversations that cut off guiltily at his approach.

One first year had made the mistake of trying to throw a spell at him, and Scorpius had quite happily used his own magic to deflect the projectile and send it shooting back toward the culprit. He was a Malfoy, and while his name did not deserve its current opprobrium a Malfoy could not be affected by the prattling of the unimportant. That being said, a Malfoy certainly was _not_ someone to jeer or attack lightly. Scorpius readily took any opportunity to remind the school of that.

It worked. The rest of his walk through Hogwarts had been far less eventful. He was almost disappointed- Scorpius would relish a duel right now to work out his fidgets.

Instead he sat with his friends, his posture perfect and his expression neutral. Though he usually ate with his back to the wall he currently sat in Nott's usual spot with his back exposed to the other three Houses. The young Malfoy normally wouldn't put himself in such a position of vulnerability. But uncomfortable as the stares Scorpius sensed digging into his back felt, they were also useful. Nott was in a position to see and judge potential threats from individuals that might try something in an empty hallway and Priscilla was poised to protect him should any fool be pretentious enough to actually try something in public.

Zambini was sitting his little sister by his side. While they usually tried to give the First Year her space to forge whatever alliances she could, in the wake of this potential mayhem they'd decided preemptive measures to be prudent. Marianngela Zambini didn't complain, but her friend was.

Marcel Avery had been folded into their protective circle by association, but he didn't look particularly happy about it. The pudgy boy blew some graphite off his sketchpad and glared at Priscilla. "I don't see what you're so worried about- with that argument this morning nobody's going to care about some dumb article."

"We care." Nott disagreed, flicking a quick glance at Malfoy but even he couldn't see anything beyond the dispassionate mask his friend had summoned. "And everyone else will eventually as well."

"How is Zoey?" Marianngela asked, her worry evident a she pushed her blond hair back with a Slytherin-green headband. Though they only had Dark Arts with the transfer she was really nice and especially helpful about studying- the Ravenclaw caught concepts remarkably quick but just couldn't seem to execute what she knew. "Why'd that Legacy go after her anyways?"

"Dunno, don't care." Zambini mumbled, still pouting at his empty plate. "That's between her and the Legacy Princess."

"And Ravenclaw and Gryffindor," Priscilla pointed out, her sharp ears having heard some passing conversations of their neighboring table. The ones not about Malfoy Manor were unerringly over only one other subject. "It seems the Ravens aren't too pleased about having an intruder."

Scorpius blinked at the news, though he wasn't truly surprised by that information. He'd predicted the Legacies's troubles, after all, but he couldn't find it in himself to be pleased by the events or proud of his foreshadowing.

He really wasn't hungry enough to wait, he decided and stood without warning.

"Going somewhere?" Nott stated the obvious with mild curiosity.

"Orion's office." He answered, still dispassionate. While he normally didn't get along with the Assistant Professor he was keen to have something to do other than sit and think.

Walking between Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, he was able to hear snippets of conversations from either direction.

"... how did she even get in? Why didn't the eagle tell anyone?"

"Not its job, I suppose. And didn't Malam say Halloween?"

"Blimey, I can't believe we didn't notice…"

"... what could take down a concealing barrier?"

"Dunno, I already got a letter from Father. He'd going to call an expert in to double check ours. Doesn't want to be in papers next…"

"... I can't believe she's only getting detentions. She should be suspended, or expelled!"

"As if. Can you imagine the uproar? Hermione Granger's daughter kicked out of school? McGonagall'd be sacked by the board if she even tried it."

"At least it was McGonagall. Can you imagine Longbottom giving her detention? He'd always had a soft spot for the Legacy kids…"

"... Malfoy's got away easy after the Second War, that's what my dad always said. Said they only got off light because Harry Potter himself stepped in, though Merlin knows why. Dad said they were always fighting in school."

"Must've been pity. Or maybe so he had someone to watch in case of another group of Death Eaters tried something? You know, like muggle miners and canaries?"

"Do you think that's what this is?…"

"... I assure you," The authoritative voice of the Head Boy caught a group's attention. "Rose Granger-Weasley's actions were her own. None of Gryffindor knew what she was doing."

"Except her family, which is most of you anyways!"

Scorpius recognized the speaker as a DDC member.

Ravenclaws murmured support of the comment, still looking at Daniel expectantly. The Gryffindor leader sighed and looked to his right, where Emma Wilkes was aiding his attempts to calm her slandered House.

"Now there's no need for hyperbole…"

Scorpius didn't hear the rest of her words as he finally cleared the Great Hall, pausing for a moment in the silent foyer. He slid his hawthorn wand into a ready grip, just in case someone attempted to accost him while he was separated from his friends.

His walk was disappointingly uneventful. Unless one was to count the Fat Friar. The Hufflepuff Ghost had jovially offered a conversation, but Scorpius walked straight through him, the icy chill actually somewhat refreshing at the moment.

Scorpius Malfoy knocked curtly on the door to Orion's office. Technically it should have belonged to Binns, but since the ghostly professor never used it and it was meant for the History of Magic Class, Orion had appropriated it at the start of the year.

There was music playing, and Scorpius wondered if he'd even been heard over a rich male voice singing " _Fly me to the moon. Let me sleep among the stars..._ "

The door creaked under his hand and he realized the door was not only unlocked but open. Pushing it with his foot Scorpius entered a room full of outdated furniture, a desk in the middle dominating the space. On it was a plate of sandwiches and an empty cage with six locks on it.

Orion himself was fiddling with something at a workbench under the window, and the Slytherin took the moment to examine the surroundings.

It was a very busy office, with a clear line down the middle between work and hobbies. The side by the window had papers, schedules, and some of the magical contraptions that Orion frequently used to aid history lessons. There was the projector as well as the interactive maps he'd used so far, in addition to a few other contraptions that had yet to be used in class. Every page was bound and organized by year and color-coded with the houses in the particular class. The wall calendar was coded as well, red, yellow, green and blue being utilized for a better purpose than decoration.

Then there was the other half. Scorpius felt his lips press into a thin line as he took in the clutter. The space around the fireplace was filled with haphazardly collected books from the library and some strange items. After inspecting them a moment longer Scorpius recognized one of them as a comptutor, the muggle information gathering device. Glancing at the tiny metal squares and wires that had been thrown into baskets, he decided they must be mugglish too and therefore lost interest.

Jonovan Orion himself was crouched over something, a phonograph on his left playing the music Scorpius had heard from outside. The assistant was mouthing along with the rich tone of the singer while he fiddled with various pieces and parts of yet another contraption Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy had never seen before.

" _Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away…"_ The song went, the Assistant still ignorant of his audience as he held what he was working on up to the light. Tisking, Orion leaned his chair back on two legs and extended an arm. He reached the main desk, paused to grab a sandwich, and then he reached back again. " _Once I get you up there where the air is rarified, We'll just glide…"_

Scorpius suppressed a snort at the singer's choice of words, and wasn't completely surprised to see that the sandwich had already been replaced on its plate. Howarts had several elves to help wherever needed.

Elves… Skipsy… Malfoy shook his head, deciding that he should get this meeting with the Assistant over with. He straightened his gaze and took a step forward just as the Asistant's hand reached the plate the second time.

But Orion wasn't grabbing another sandwich. Instead his arm grew. Scorpius watched with awe as the limb simply stretched clear over the desk, the bones between Orion's shoulder and elbow and wrist and eventually even between the knuckles growing longer and thinner. It was a bit stomach churning, and yet he was mesmerized as he watched the fingernails grow dark and pointed to pinch a wire that had been resting on the shelf across the room. Then it shrunk in much the same manner, settling back onto the workbench with the piece it'd been sent for.

The entire process had taken less than five seconds and Scorpius shook his head to clear it from shock. He'd been aware that Assistant Orion was a metamorphmagi, but Malfoy had never imagined the self-transfiguration skill being used in such a manner.

Orion rolled the shoulder of his stretched arm and took a bite of his lunch as he continued to focus on his work, mouthing " _Fly with me, let's fly, let's fly… Pack up, let's fly away!"_ before the music faded with the end of the song.

The record skipped, and skipped again, and Jonovan reached for the record to flip it to the other side. His arm had already started stretching when this time he noticed his audience and he paused, blinking in surprise. "Mister Malfoy. I- you're here early. Did you even have time to eat?"

Scorpius didn't respond to the rhetorical question, instead watching with curiosity as Orion stood and walked across his office to flip the record instead of repeating the display of his metamorphmagi skill. "There's quite a lot of muggle items here."

It wasn't a question, but Orion answered anyways. "It makes no sense that electricity gets interrupted by magic, and vice versa. Honestly you wizards are so far behind in times that it's almost pathetic. Do you have any idea how far I have to travel to send even one email to my family?"

"What's wrong with owls?"

"Family's muggle." The Assistant blew off some dust before resetting the record. "And owls can take anywhere between days and hours. It's very inefficient. Somewhere between radios and computers, the electrical components cease to function. I'm trying to deduce which step exactly."

Scorpius looked at the mugglish items with kindled interest. They were still a grating mess to the eye, but they held more potential now.

"If I had known you would be here so early I would have…" Orion looked at the mess himself and seemed to decide on honesty with himself and his student. "Attempted, to tidy up some."

"Is there a particular reason that your project shows remarkably less organization than your professorial work?"

"Absolutely." The Assistant answered without hesitation. "When I'm teaching I need to be organized, prepared to answer any question or anecdote my students ask for and lead them back to the topic that is provided. While learning one follows any inspiration no matter how random, and the unexpected results become part of the lesson."

Quite the intriguing answer. Scorpius filed the distinction away for further analysis.

"Chaos creates inspiration. For me, anyways." Orion finished as he reset the music, the deep baritone of the man singing once more filling the room.

" _I've got the world on a string, sitting on a rainbow. Got the string 'round my finger…"_

Rather pretentious lines, and Scorpius didn't quite follow how it related to the following lyrics related to love. "What did you want to see me about, Assistant Orion?"

"The topics are twofold, actually." Orion sat not at his desk but back at his workbench, the spindly man folding his limbs into the small chair with practice. "Did McGonagall show you the paper?"

"Yes." he answered blankly. And even if the Headmaster hadn't given him the privacy to discover the news he'd undoubtedly had heard by now, with the paper circulating as it was and his friends being as connected as they were. It was more surprising that he hadn't heard anything from his parents.

He supposed their silence was because his Father was busy trying to keep nosy Aurors from ruining their Manor, and that Mother would be upset because of Skipsy.

Orion watched his face and seemed to come to a decision. "But you are early, and I hadn't reached the stopping point with my experiment. I need at least ten more minutes. Why don't you just wait a little while, eat if you want, and let me know when you're prepared for a serious conversation."

Scorpius watched him turn in his desk to resume working, having a sudden sense of deja-vu as he remembered the many times his father did the same thing. While the authority figure engaged in academics he fell into a familiar routine of being alone in his thoughts, and admitted to himself that he was a bit hungry.

The young Malfoy grabbed one of the grilled sandwiches. Malfoys did not normally enjoy such plebian food, but finding the toasted bread crunchy and melted cheese accenting the smokey flavor of the meat, Scorpius Malfoy had to admit it was adequate to sate his appetite.

Enough so that he grabbed its replacement and started eating that one as well. He realized it wasn't being alone in his thoughts that had bothered him in the Great Hall it had been the whispers and buzzing conversations. The silence stares upon his perfect composure even as he'd resolved to ignore them. Sliding a glance at the Assistant and finding the man still distracted, Malfoy leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the tranquility of privacy and soft music.

Scorpius was itching from head to toe to do something, but action was not the charted course for the moment. Even if he wished he didn't have the skills to influence matters at Hogwarts let alone at him home, and so all he could do was wait. Wait for others to find the thieves that had attacked his Manor and killed Skipsy, thieves that had been fool enough to target one of the Sacred 28 Pureblood lineages.

The Malfoys may have fallen in recent memory but they still held strong to their past, and woe became those few who forgot.

Though Scorpius had no doubt that his family would enact retribution on the perpetrators soon enough that wouldn't change what had happened. Couldn't change it. The damage done this time was not a doctored photograph in a paper or a spit to their pride, it wasn't something that could be repurchased and replaced. This time it was in their own home. And the intrusive, personal affront would always be remembered by the metaphorical ghost of their murdered elf.

Scorpius had heard the ideals of S.P.E.W., but he was from an old family and Skipsy from an even older one. While it did not really feel like the death of a family member the young Malfoy certainly felt it comparable to a rug being swiped from under his feet. Only instead of hitting the floor he was still falling, and what else might tumble had yet to be seen.

He had a chill of premonition as he remembered his own words. _If just one piece falls, the rest will follow._

The cold sensation passed and Malfoy straightened, his grey eyes turning cold. He was the heir apparent, he wasn't about to let his line collapse. A Malfoy would never let down his predecessors that way. The Malfoy name had survived both wars with both their families and their fortunes intact. Armand, the first Malfoy in Britain, had served King William I. Septimus Malfoy had helped calm the Ministry after the terror of the Salem Witch Trials in the early 1700s, rewriting the strict mandates of the Statute of Secrecy to ensure the safety of wizardkind.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was going to be the Malfoy that reminded the world of the good his family could do. He would put the whisperings of Death Eater ideals to rest and above all, Scorpius Hyperion would not let himself fall prey to the same fault James Potter was crumbling under.

He swallowed the last bite of the second sandwich and chased it down with some water. "Thank you professor. I didn't realize I was hungry."

"I was your age not so long ago… and I still haven't grown out of the hunger." Orion straightened from his bench and reached for yet another sandwich.

"What are you working on?"

"A CD player." Orion answered, holding up the portable player from the 2000s. "It seemed like a good step between phonograph and more complicated components, like ipods or wifi players. And all I have on record is Frank Sinatra, Michael Buble, and the Beatles. I need more variety. Plus, Christmas is coming up. It'd be nice to have some music already."

Christmas music in November. Scorpius kept his comment to himself and watched Orion pull a plate from a drawer and steaming cookies appear atop it. "Dessert?"

"Pass."

Shrugging, the Assistant ate one himself and sat behind his desk. The ornate furniture made him look even thinner by comparison, a soft sort of wiry that was normally associated with starving crooks or the limbs of a spider. He neatly finished the dessert with three bites before wandlessly summoning a glass of milk and dunking his next cookie in it as he spoke. "Now, there are two things I wish to speak with you about. First I wanted to talk about Zoey's tutoring with you- and then I wanted to ask if you were interested in visiting your Manor with me. Whichever you want to address first."

He took a bite, closing his eyes and smiling. Scorpius looked between the man and the dessert, thinking it oddly uncharacteristic but more occupied with his offer. A chance to go home himself- to see his parents, to check on his room. That itch was back and eager to be scratched. The unexpected information jumped his mind into an analytical mindset.

He appreciated being told both topics up front. While it was normally a strategic flaw to reveal one's hand in such a manner, Orion was doing his best to avoid being accused of bribing Scorpius with the offer of a home visit or of the opposite, refusing the student the exact same trip for personal reasons.

It was still both a carrot and stick in the conversation, but by saying them both up front it was the least underhanded way to open both topics that Orion had decided to address.

Now it was just a matter of deciding which one first. Realizing that a key point had been left out, Scorpius immediately asked "When would this visit be?"

"As soon as we're done speaking."

"Ah. In that case- what about Malam's tutoring?"

"Given Miss Rose's actions, I felt inspired to personally vet Zoey's remaining tutor before it continued." Orion said bluntly but smiled as his focus shifted, the expression softening his face. "I know my cousin appreciates your efforts, even if she was against being tutored at the beginning. And she does consider you one of her friends. I was wondering what _your_ thoughts on tutoring her has been."

Scorpius tilted his head to the side to watch Orion's expression from the corner of his eyes. That softness… the familial tie between the two of them was certainly close. "It hasn't yielded much results academically, I'm afraid, but I have not been opposed to our sessions for some time now."

"Hm. And, your opinion in the wake of… recent events?" The assistant sipped the milk as though it were a fine wine, looking at Scorpius over the rim.

"Her determination in the wake of such struggles is… commendable. Very few could stay as focused as she has." He was unaware of the softness in his own voice as he admitted that, but saw Orion's eyes flicker. Scorpius lifted his chin and turned his comments to the scholarly avenue. "Given that she's still interested in learning I see no reason she should be denied aid. Although…"

The last word was hesitant, the pause theatrical, and Orion took the bait. "Although…?"

"Although, since Rose quit, it's become a bit of a task to keep up with. I've been taking her to DDC to help with the practical aspects, but the textbook material is proving to be difficult."

"You think there may be someone that can do your job better?"

Scorpius bristled and wondered if Wainbata had told Orion to make that exact insinuation against his incapability, but then discarded it. Malam likely hadn't any clue this conversation was taking place. Scorpius had seen her walking away from Orion that morning, who had been teaching class with Binns ever since. Though the echo of her old barb made Scorpius realize that the cousins had doubtless spoken about him in the past. "I merely find myself with a lack of relating assets. I had heard McGonagall gave Rose an unrestricted pass into the Restricted Section to aid her with her literary tutoring, but without that…"

He trailed off to let the man come to his own conclusions. Were it not a fundamental flaw in any negotiation Scorpius would have crossed his fingers in hope that Orion, being new to Hogwarts staff, wasn't fully aware of what he was being asking for. The Restricted Section was restricted for a reason, likely the Rose's permission had only been granted because of her lineage and McGonagall's favoritism and her sterling reputation. But if he could have even a bit of luck on such a bad day…

"Is that so?" The Assistant looked at him, his brown eyes dark and endless as the man weighed options. "Well, Mister Malfoy, if I could help arrange so that this 'pass' makes it to yourself, would you then find no issues with your tutoring responsibilities?"

Were it not below a Malfoy Scorpius might have cheered at his triumph. "None at all."

"Excellent." Jonovan Malam Orion grinned the smile of success that Scorpius didn't allow himself, and stood from his desk. "Now, let's get dressed for that hometrip…"

Scorpius stood with his own nod of agreement, finding he enjoyed the interaction with the Assistant: Short, functional, no-nonsense. "Lets."

* * *

"Did you see where James went?"

"Sorry, no."

Roxanne sighed and thanked the Ravenclaw girl before resuming her search, stopping to ask every person she saw- no matter their House- if they knew where her cousin was. She _knew_ he'd been at breakfast that morning, but hadn't seen his sorry hide ever since. Fridays were elective days for most of the school, so though her and James were the same House and year their only time together was lunch and their study break.

Her stomach growled mournfully at the reminder of food, but Roxanne firmly ignored it to race toward the Owlery instead. She'd been looking for James ever since Uncle Neville had taken Lorcan to McGonagall's office, wanting to know what their game plan was going to be. But he'd buggered off quicker than a boggart.

She wasted her entire study period this way, running around corners and sliding down stairs and asking everyone she met if they'd seen her Quidditch Captain and fellow Gryffindor, James Potter.

"Have you seen James?"

"Any idea where…?"

"Has he been here?"

"When did you last see James?"

"James Sirius Potter. Where is he?"

Everyone she ran into answered Roxanne Weasley's question with uncertain headshakes and innocent shrugs.

Roxanne scowled and spun away, biting the tip of her thumb. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was purposefully avoiding her. But that wasn't possible. He wouldn't do that. James knew better anyways- even if he had the Mauraders Map Roxanne knew Hogwarts better. She'd find him eventually. So why the subterfuge?

"James!" Roxanne hollered in the Gryffindor Tower, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

There was a suspicious thump and swear from the boys dorms, and Rox sprinted up the clockwise stairs three at a time, fully prepared to find James and demand some answers.

Instead she saw Lorcan's socked feet sticking up in the air as the boy himself fumbled on the floor, tangled in a combination of red sweater vest and blanket. He swore a few more times before he managed to pull his face through the- was that the sleeve?

"Rox? What's all the yelling for?"

She sighed and went over to help him, yanking the blanket free and knocking his feet to the floor so he at least wasn't upside-down anymore. "Have you seen James?" she asked, rubbing her right shoulder absentmindedly.

"No?" Lorcan eventually gave up on the sweater and took it off, throwing it on the large pile of dirties. "Why, you mad at him?"

"No. Just looking." She set her jaw for a few moments, then admitted in a miniature explosion "All right, alright _yes_ I'm mad at him. He let you take the fall! Why would he do that?"

Her, James, Lorcan and Lysander had been the oldest clump of Legacies to join Hogwarts as a group. School hadn't been easy at first- especially when they'd lost Lysander to Ravenclaw. They all had a distinct lack of skill at interacting with kids who weren't family, and Rox had been the worst. She admitted still was. She could barely hold interest in anything that wasn't related to her cousins or the Scamander twins.

Lorcan and James had been the ones to help her land on her feet. She trusted them more than anyone. Except maybe her big brother, Fred II, and even that was a close call. Roxanne would do anything for her two boys and they her. The idea of any deception or lie between them, even a white one, was abrasive.

"We always get in trouble together, or not at all!"

His lip twitched. "The point this time was that neither of you got in trouble. I mean, this is a bit bigger than our usual stunts."

"Stunts? _Stunts?"_ Roxanne's face grew to the famous Weasley red and her voice echoed again. "We've done pranks, explosions, jitters and _stunts-_ how did we get caught this time? I mean- how did we get it so wrong? We were so certain…"

A little voice pointed out that it was _James_ who had been so certain, and though she'd normally squish it like a bug Rox knew it was right. At the same time she hated doubting family. It was against her nature. Growing up in the limelight, her family's days were filled with a lot of rumors and blank smiles and weaseling adults who'd tried using them to get close to their parents. They'd quickly learned to trust eachother over anything and anyone else, and experience had bonded the Legacy kids close.

"We'll go over it once McGonagall stops watching us so closely."

"Watching _you,_ you mean. While you're in detention. ALONE."

"Rose'll be with me." Lorcan's calm tone was a stark contrast to her lion-worthy growl. "Well, jumping up and going 'I want detention too' is hardly our style, isn't it?"

Roxanne growled under her breath. "It's not like nobody knows the three of us are a team. I'll eat my right toe if McGonagall didn't ask you about James and me being involved."

She picked up the foot in question, pointing it at him.

"Keep your toe, of course she did." Lorcan chuckled and bumped the shoe back to the floor. "But she's got no proof, and neither does anyone else. So you're in the clear."

Rox resumed pacing, still scowling as she admitted. "James is avoiding me. Why would James do that?"

"Well, why are you chasing him? What are you going to ask?"

"Why he's bloody avoiding me, for one! And- and Creevy mentioned that _he_ was the one who insisted we do the sneaking, she was apparently willing to do it herself!"

Lorcan's eyebrows rose. "And you trust her more?"

"NO."

"Okay then- what do you think his answer's going to be?"

Bad, was the first thing that came to mind, but Rox couldn't think of a single example. "I don't know!"

"Then he probably doesn't either." he shrugged and flipped her a coin. "And you know how much he hates pre-game drama. Look- he's already set a meeting for Monday."

She easily caught the flying coin, looking at the date etched into the fake galleon. It was Monday, after Gryffindor's game against Slytherin. "You really think that's it?"

"He _hates_ pre-game drama. Captain in him." he shrugged again. Quidditch was the one subject that James didn't joke about. "And with your track record, you two are likely to be arguing for a week once you start."

"At least." Roxanne agreed, knowing it had been a long time since she'd felt this negative towards her cousin. She tossed Lorcan his coin back with a sigh, then sat down next to him on the bed. "So that's it? I have to wait the whole weekend?"

Lorcan could tell she was still upset, though likely no one else would be able to tell. After a moment he reached into his back for his stash. He'd been saving them for a Christmas sendoff, but maybe he should bring it out now. "Will these help your impatience?"

"Whizz-Bangs!" Rox grinned and looked at the exploding _Wheezes_ products like they were candies from Honeydukes. "How'd you get them in?"

"I have my ways."

"... you hid them in Longbottom's fertilizer deliveries again, didn't you?"

" _Any_ ways…" Lorcan pouted at being discovered so easily while Rox dropped the items in question back into his lap. They still smelled a bit of dragondung. "Think these'll help your impatience?"

"They'll help, yeah." Roxanne smiled and gave him a one-armed hug. She was still upset, but being Gryffindor Beater she could see the merit in her Captain's decision. She would keep the pleasent smile until after their Sunday-evening game against Slytherin.

And come Monday, after they trounced those snakes and had their celebration, James Potter would answer _every. single. one._ of her questions.

* * *

When Zoey opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed what that she felt sick. Her head was pounding and her stomach felt like it was rebelling against everything she'd ever eaten. She moaned lightly, putting a hand over her swollen eyes. How long had she been crying?

...more to the point, when had she fallen asleep? The ice cream had melted into a mess on Myrtle's floor, a sticky orange goop that she avoided stepping in as she got up. Rasputin shifted along her shoulders, still rubbing his face on her cheek. It was the only part of the murtlap without spikes and Zoey appreciated his continued comfort. Honestly, she'd hug him all over again if her arms weren't already matted red with scratches and scabbed-over punctures.

A peek out the windows let her know it was well into the afternoon. She'd been sleeping and crying in here the whole day. Wincing a bit, she looked around for that Myrtle ghost to apologize, but didn't see her anywhere. Or Peeves, actually.

...was it sad, that the only beings who had comforted her were a ghost, a poltergeist that most of the school hated, and Jon's pet?

Zoey decided not to think about it, instead going over the classes she'd missed in her mind. Luckily she hadn't missed Potions- she was still petitioning Slughorn to let her jump ahead a year, and while he was all for it he couldn't make that happen if she didn't have a perfect record on the table. Jon could help her with the History work. Dark Arts… well _apparently_ , Zoey thought sourly, she was going to have Sybble for detention the rest of the semester, so _that_ professor would be easy to track down for make up. Hugo and Lily might give her a hand with Transfiguration and Charms- respectively… that was, of course, if they didn't shun her too with the upcoming 'family meeting' or were mad at her for yelling at their cousin, or scared of her after she'd literally shown claws…

She slapped her cheeks, determined not to spiral back down in a cycle. It was exhausting to cry- Zoey hated it. She went to the sinks to splash her face, moving a sink over when the first faucet seemed to be broken. Zoey plugged the basin and watched the water rise.

Rasputin hissed in distaste and jumped away, probably thinking she was going to shove him in it for a surprise cleaning. The girl had not been above using such tactics in the past.

Instead she dunked her own head, the cold water reinvigorating her. Zoey pushed her hair back from her face, frowning at her reflection in the mirror. Last time she'd seen her hair it had been bright blue. When had it turned gold?

She noticed the bags under her eyes and forgot the curiosity, realizing there was no way she'd be leaving Myrtle's bathroom anytime soon. Her eyes still flashed behind her swollen lids and her fingers sparked from time to time with emotional magic. Not to mention the Zoey in the mirror looked like she'd had a sobfest competition with the moaning ghost herself and _won._

The once-bullied girl knew better than to walk through hallways of unfriendlies when looking vulnerable.

It was always this way, Zoey thought sourly as she pinched her cheeks to try and bring more color back to them. Once her tears started they seemed determined to stay. As soon as her mind calmed down about what had set them off it would supply her with something else to worry or fear or get sad about all over again. The problem was there was just too much material in her life that fell under those categories.

Betrayed by a friend? Check, Rose had started that bandwagon. Then Sandy- Lysander had refused her company. Now that she was calmer Zoey admitted that Scorpius and Jon hadn't _really_ pushed her away, but it was unfortunate timing. Jon would tell her the lock code into his rooms in a heartbeat if she asked, and Scorpius… well, it wasn't his fault she'd gotten her hopes up with the possibility he'd come to check on her. And he was secretive by nature, it was normal for him not to share information. It wasn't personal against her.

At least she hoped it wasn't. There were just too many unknowns for her to worry about- and not just about Scorpius Malfoy, though she did wonder what he thought of her display in the Great Hall. Would he also think she'd intentionally been holding back in their tutoring sessions? It wasn't proper magic, being wandless. Zoey honestly hadn't known it could get that powerful.

What did the school think? She'd borderline attacked Gryffindor with that uncontrolled explosion- thank the stars above that nobody'd been hurt by her magic. Not to mention she'd insulted every one of them with her callous comment. Zoey wouldn't take it back. It had been true, after all… though she did regret the _way_ she'd said it. There were good and bad ways to go about things, and that had definitely been bad. Gryffindor as a whole probably hated her now. Judging by the debate she'd walked in on the Ravenclaws were still deciding how to react. She had no clue what Slytherin and Hufflepuff would think.

As far as the 'Legacy' family went Zoey hoped they didn't _all_ hate her. She hoped Lily, Hugo, and Albus would forgive her words against their cousin. Rose was definitely terrified of her, if her tears were anything to judge by. She wondered if anyone else was scared of her now.

Terror. Fear. She remembered the sensation of her magic releasing, bursting past every obstructing barrier that she'd thought magic had. It was… Jon described it as gaining a whole nother level of existence, of feeling unstoppable. 'Like a god among men', even if he looked more like a demon than anything else and needed her help calming down from it. It hadn't been like that for her.

It had indeed been a head-spinning rush, but it felt more like gaining another sense. A Sixth Sense, Zoey thought wryly, remembering the movie but knowing it was nothing alike. Instead of seeing the dead- which wasn't that unusual among wizards, what with ghosts walking through the halls and all- she'd… it had felt like her sense of touch had gone beyond her own skin. If she wanted she could know the form and texture of anything from across a room.

At the same time it had felt like she'd been stretching a neglected muscle that had been cramped in an awkward position all her life, a painful kind of relaxation that had made Zoey almost swoon with relief.

Zoey blinked rapidly as she realized she was _still_ feeling that way, like there was a part of herself that was extended beyond her body. But… she wasn't feeling much from the sense now. When she'd been in the Great Hall she had felt _exactly_ where every person in there was positioned, even the tables and food…

But not the benches, or the goblets, the Ravenclaw's astute mind chimed in. So why did this 'sixth' sense tell her about some things but not others? Eager to keep herself focused on something other than her problems she turned around slowly, closing her eyes to test what she could sense without them.

The lights- every lit torch hummed warmly against her senses, even the ones that were off smelled lightly of smoke. Zoey knew they'd turn themselves on when the sun set and it got darker in here.

She couldn't feel the ceiling, floor, or walls themselves… the torches just sort of… hovered in her mind. Like a videogame with a glitch, where some things existed but the unloaded items were invisible on the screen.

Rasputin, she realized. The magical creature poked the edges of her senses, his every echoing claw scratch against tile accompanied by a waft of cinnamon. She frowned a bit. What was he doing by the ice cream?

She cracked an eye open to see him licking up the melted mess, pumpkin cream smeared all over his face. The murtlap paused to lick his lips and flash her a toothy grin before resuming his snack.

Well. At least someone was enjoying it.

And a sink, Zoey realized. She turned her green gaze to the sink that hadn't worked. "Weird." She blinked rapidly at the oddity. "Why can I sense just one sink and not any of the others?"

She moved to stand in front of it, Rasputin returning to her shoulders with orange cream dripping from his whiskers. "Do you have any ideas, Raz?"

Unsurprisingly, he didn't answer. Though he did lean forward as though intrigued himself.

"It is interesting." The Ravenclaw agreed, giving in to her curiosity. Her fingers sparked as she reached a hand out to inspect the sink, her magic instantly informing her that the innocuous plumbing was built with a magical barrier similar to that which hid the entrance to Jon's rooms.

Zoey frowned, having difficulty getting a sense of the slippery barrier that continuously tried to slide away from her touch. It took a while to sooth the riled enchantment, gently stroking it so it felt less aggressive against her intrusion. This magic was definitely shaped as a lock of some kind.

"Now what do you open?" She asked aloud, stiffening when she felt some part of the barrier click like a release mechanism. Such as a door.

Or a trap.

Zoey jumped back and away when the sink began to move, dashing all the way into one of the stalls as Rasputin dug half-inch claws into her shoulders to maintain his perch. She silently berated her own silliness even as she stepped atop the rim of the toilet so her feet couldn't be seen. Honestly. As if a small latch could _really_ defend her from a _magical_ trap. Still, placebos- it gave the Ravenclaw courage to peer through the crack of the frail door.

She watched nervously as the sink- well, sunk, right out of sight and the ones next to it slid aside as though in invitation. Zoey waited one heartbeat, then two, and only when nothing else seemed imminent did she cautiously step out of the stall to approach the tunnel that had been revealed. It sloped down very steeply, and when she put a hand on the rim to try and see through its inky blackness she sensed that the enchantment was pleased that she'd opened it. If an old enchantment could even feel anything, but Zoey personally thought they did.

The young Malam pulled her head back out and raised a brown eyebrow at Rasputin. "Who puts a slide in a bathroom?"

* * *

 _And here it is, the unofficial 'part 2' of last chapter. I know 'Now You See' was very Rose/Zoey heavy (obviously), so I wanted to write the responses of everyone else as well as a few awesome and LONG AWAITED plot progressions. Seriously, you have no idea how long I've been prepared to write these. Unless your answer is Ch 1, because then yes, you do!_

 _BTW, the two song's playing in Jon's office were Frank Sinatra's_ **Come fly with me** _and_ **I've got the world on a string.** I do not own them.

 _Fifty house points to the first person who reviews!_

 _-E_


	27. Ch 27 Progress

**Ch 27- Progress**

 _Hey guys! I'm baaack! Quick note before the chapter- after rewatching the Fantastic Beasts scene in which the Muggle got bit by a murtlap, I went 'Huh? That looks nothing like Rasputin- it's too wiggly!'_

 _So, after I re-reread the descriptions of murtlaps I discovered that JK's description uses rat/sea_ _ **anemone**_ … _I wrote Rasputin as a rat/sea_ _ **urchin**_ _. Hehe… oops. Anyways, I like leaving the prickly Raz as he is, so he is an Albanian Murtlap, with urchin spikes instead of anemone wiggles. (original, I know, but I didn't want to just ignore the problem without fixing it.)(if anyone has a better name suggestion feel free to share!)_

 _(PS- sorry about the late posting, my beta and myself have had double workloads since Christmas and have had trouble finding time to co-author. Thanks for your patience, past and future reviews, and we hope you enjoy!)_

* * *

"Jo- Mister Orion? Sir?" Zoey Malam peaked around the door to her cousin's office, finding it empty. Save, of course, for Rasputin snoring on the pile of shredded papers he'd made a nest of. She shook her head at the murtlap, hoping hadn't used anything important this time.

The rodential pet snored away as Zoey walked around the imposing desk and knocked, not really surprised that she didn't get an answer. Jonovan Malam Orion was many things, but a morning person was not one of them. Back in his teenage days, it had literally taken buckets of water to get her cousin up in time for the schoolbus. A measly knock was still inadequate to wake him most mornings.

...plus there was the possibility of a silencing spell separating the History Office from Private Quarters. Zoey could feel a lot of old spells layered on the door, so a _Silencio_ or _Muffiliato_ was certainly possible. Probable actually, the Ravenclaw girl would guess.

She picked up and tested the new lock Jon had put on his door, cursing the cold piece of metal. It had been there last night too.

As eager as she was to explore the new secret passage she'd found in Myrtle's bathroom- a tunnel with a _slide-_ she hadn't let herself just go down it. Jumping down a potentially dangerous tunnel in the middle of the night, with nobody aware of where she was, and not even an _exit_ strategy would be nothing short of suicidal. Not to mention plain stupid.

Instead she'd come to grab her broom and tell Jon, but he'd been out. So she'd reluctantly delayed until _now,_ expecting to find him asleep grading papers or already tinkering with his latest magtech attempt in one of his rare free times.

Instead Zoey leaned back against the desk and rolled her nails on the finished mahogany, tucking a gold bang behind her ear. Her patience lasted all of about two seconds before she turned to find a piece of parchment.

" _Gone exploring,"_ She dictated quietly as she wrote, " _I'll be with Raz, see you soon…"_

She paused her writing and poked the matlap in question with the quill, letting him awake from his curled position of prickling pain. " _P_ dot _S_ dot _, start working on alarm clocks next._ Period."

Rasputin was about as happy about mornings as his master was, and so he glared accusingly at Zoey even as he dutifully sat back on his haunches and wiped his paws over his face, then turned to pull a few stray paper bits from his back.

Zoey stuck the paper to the door with a touch of magic and closed her eyes, sticking it to the concealment charm like a burr to hide it in case a student came in. Then she huffed a bang back out of her eyes. Jon's paranoia was _really_ starting to grow on her.

Raz mostly asleep in one hand and her broomcase in the other, she was almost out the door when something on the shelf caught her eye. She pocketed it and left one more line on the note.

 _P.P.S.- I'm taking your lumos globe too._

* * *

In Gryffindor Tower, Rose Granger-Weasley was huddled under her covers. Ever since the mortifying start to her day yesterday, she'd been walking around in a state of numb… well not quite 'bliss', but it certainly would be compared to what came after. Mortified by the public reveal that she'd invaded Ravenclaw Tower, Rose had buried herself in her studies for the rest of the day. While researching the mating habits of Moon Calves or debating whether magical communication had become outdated, she didn't really need to think.

Keeping her mind preoccupied with remembering facts or dissecting flaws in lines of reasoning had carried her through the day. She vaguely remembered various classmates and people trying to talk to her, but no matter the subject she'd turned them all away with a 'later'. Everyone knew Rose was studious, so she had that liberty on her bad days.

And yesterday had been a really bad day.

Rose sniffed wetly and wiped her face. After a day of calming herself with study, the eldest Granger-Weasley now found herself unwilling to get up to face a long weekend day without classes and studies to hide in.

She chided herself for the thought. She was a _Granger-Weasley._ Her parents had fought Voldemort. _I have all the tools for success. Just look at my parents!_ Rose dictated their credentials as she sat up, _My Mom spearheaded the biggest creatures-rights movement since the seventeen hundreds. She's the most accomplished Witch in History. My dad is… very proud of me. I can do this._

Rose grabbed a tissue from her dresser, blowing loudly in the emptied dorm. Being near noon, even the laziest of people had already departed for a meal or two by now. That meant that nobody could see her upset. Already a better start than yesterday.

 _Today will be great._ She decided firmly, tossing the dirtied tissue into the wicker basket. _Honestly, it'll probably have blown over by now. I did wrong, I got my punishment, and everyone knows it._

The last three words made her eyes water and so Rose stopped for another handful of tissues, crying noisily in the empty room.

Alone, her sorrow passed quickly. She straightened and resolved to spend the day in the support of her family until she felt better. _Stop worrying- today will be great. How do I know?_

Rose Granger-Weasley chose to make this last statement aloud "Because I'll make it that way."

She straightened, tossed her mane of red curls over her shoulder, and took the first step of the day…

… straight onto a solid floor of gobstones, the round set making her slip and fall to the ground. The magical marbles rolled and bumped into eachother, a good dozen of them ricocheting out of the overlapping circles that had been chalked to the floor of her Gryffindor Dorm.

For a few moments Rose just laid there stunned, her brain trying to process how she had gone from vertical to horizontal so quickly. She distantly heard the _click-click…click_ of the last marbles stopping, trying to figure out how a set of _gobstones_ had gotten into her dorm. None of her dormmates played the geeky game, and Rose certainly had no interest in a pastime that involved-

Their momentum dwindled, the gobstones turned in unison and sprayed smelly water all over the person who'd knocked them out of their rings.

Nobody heard the undignified shriek Rose gave, or the sound of her getting up and tripping again. Which knocked more gobstones into eachother and- by rules of the magical marble game- warranted the smelly soaking of the unskilled player. By the time she made it to her closet the eldest Granger-Weasley reeked from head to toe, and she'd already gotten the very bad inkling that this day would not go the way she wanted. At. All.

Half an hour later that was proven true when her hair still smelled, no matter how much shampoo she'd used. Eventually forced to give up on her attempts and just spray on some WonderWitch perfume in hopes that it would cover the stench, Rose gathered her stuff for the day with the idea that things could only get better.

She was wrong. Walking through the halls to breakfast, it felt like _everyone_ was looking at her. It took every ounce of her Gryffindor bravery to keep her back straight and head high as she walked, though there wasn't much she could do about the reddening of her cheeks.

By the time she reached a small gathering of her family at outside the Great Hall they looked more like a lifeboat to Rose than her younger family members. She called out to them "Lily, Albus- hey Hugo!" Her attention targeted on her little brother, she didn't notice Albus stiffen at her greeting. "Feels like it's been ages, Hue. How're your classes going?"

"Don't call me that!" Hugo blushed, ducking away from the hand she was using to ruffle his red hair. "Binn's is a bore, the Patil professors assign too many papers, and Sybble is a slavedriver. Thank Merlin for Uncle Longbottom's class."

"Sybble's not so bad. One time she let Albus redo the same essay _four_ times. You remember that, Al?"

Silence met her answer.

"...Al?"

"Hey Hugo, I think they'll have restocked the bacon by now."

"Urm-" looking between his cousin and his obviously-being-ignored older sister, Hugo agreed. "Probably."

"Let's go then." Albus turned and started walking into the Great Hall.

"Wha- Albus!" Rose stammered, shocked at his behavior.

With a mantle of ice Albus stopped and half turned to look at her. "Yes, Rose?"

"I- um, I just… I wanted to talk to you."

"Well." Something flashed in his eyes. "It can wait."

Three jaws dropped at sweet Albus's casual dismissal, and once the boys left Rose turned a bewildered gaze upon Lily. "What was that about?"

The young Hufflepuff tilted her head at Albus's back, then looked at Rose. "Well, what did you do to make him mad?"

"Me?" Rose repeated incredulously. "I didn't do anything!"

"You must have." Lily sat casually on a windowsill as though she wasn't accusing the smartest person in her school of being wrong. "He just treated you the same way he's been treating James."

"That's not-" even as she started to deny it the vague memory of telling Albus off yesterday came to mind. Merlin, he'd even used her exact words. She sat heavily next to Lily, too shocked to finish her statement. Since when had Albus had a vindictive bone in his body?

Sniffing lightly, Lily looked around, following her nose until she eventually smelled Rose and then reeled back. "Um- Rose- what kind of shampoo did you use this morning?"

"...Wonderwitch." She said morosely, then shared the tale of how her morning had gone.

"Gobstones, huh?" Lily looked at her sympathetically and jumped off the windowsill, reaching up to pat her cousin's shoulder. "Let's get you some breakfast."

Rose- or more accurately, her stomach- rumbled in agreement, and she finished the last of her long journey for food.

The girls sat at the Hufflepuff table today, probably because Lily- ever the negotiator- wanted to give Albus space with whatever was bothering him. The Hufflepuffs all made room for the pair to sit across from each other. She pulled out a leaf of lettuce for her rabbit and stacked a plate of chocolate chip pancakes just before her Prefect came over.

Rupert looked at the two girls that had been directly and indirectly associated with the previous day's drama. "Everything okay here?" He asked with an eye on Lily, his badge shining with its usual polish.

"Yes, thank you." She answered peacefully, then turned back to Rose as Rupert nodded and moved on. "So, who do you think set the gobstones?"

"I don't know." Rose said exasperatedly. "But they are- are- absolutely horrid! I have enough going wrong in my life already. First I have to keep up with James's ridiculous training schedule, _then_ I had to waste my time tutoring someone who didn't even want it, then I get a letter from Mum about my marks dropping, _then-_ ohmygod Mum." She cut herself off as she came to a realization. "She's gonna hear about this any day now."

"Hold on-" Lily chimed in. "What's this about your marks dropping?"

Rose blushed as she realized her slip. "Oh it- it's nothing really. Just- between Quidditch Practice and helping people with homework and tutoring the Transfer I got a few 'Exceed Expectations' instead of 'Outstandings'."

She looked upset at not having been told. "When was this?"

"... start of October."

"Ro-ose," Lily said her name as a two syllable word. "You should have told me. I can do my essays on my own."

"I know that." she said, but her face and tone spoke a little of doubt.

The young Hufflepuff looked up to the candles adorning the ceiling and sighed, but didn't press the point.

"An-y-ways," Rose went on, eager to get away from that subject and on to what was really bothering her. "I've got no time for reading anymore! I haven't touched a book outside of class since Wednesday, between juggling homework and quidditch."

"Mmhm." Lily hummed along, used to Rose's ranting complaints.

"And I mean, I'm under so much pressure from my parents and you _know_ all the Professors expect only my best, which is hard to deliver. On top of it all I've got detention from now to Christmas, and that's just not fair-"

"What?"

"Yeah," Rose straightened up. "Lorcan didn't tell you? We've got detention _every day_ after class. As if I didn't have enough going wrong in my life already. I don't get it- I mean, McGonagall has to know what I'm going through. It's _not fair._ Nobody else has had to go through what I do."

"Excuse you," Lily snapped, looking properly intimidating despite her small stature as she waved her hand disapprovingly. Charles Fluffington watched as the leaf of lettuce he'd been nibbling waved upon it like an army banner. "Are you forgetting what you did to _get_ the detention? You broke _into_ another house and stole something."

She grew quieter and hissed the heinous crime, looking around to see if anyone was following the conversation.

"And then-" she rolled her eyes. "You admitted it in front of _three_ professors. That's a pretty convenient little thing to blot out, Rose. Of _course_ McGonagall was going to give you detention. "

"I didn't 'blot it out'," the Granger-Weasley defended herself, but much more meekly. "I just- I just think that I, specifically, didn't require such an extreme measure to learn my err."

"Oh but Lorcan did?" Lily countered ruthlessly. "And why you ' _specifically'_? Rose, your problems… well, they _are_ problems, but they're not that unique. Parents being strict on their kids is practically in the job description. Strictness _is_ in the _Professor's_ job descriptions. And, obviously, _all_ your teammates have to follow the same practice schedule you do. Even James."

"It wasn't three professors. It was one. Orion is an Assistant." Rose corrected, finding she didn't have any other rebuttal to offer at the moment. She poked at her breakfast with a fork as she thought about Lily's words, but another conversation floated into her mind.

 _Self-centered. Self-absorbed. Self-entitled._

"Lily, can you be honest about something?"

"I always am." Her younger cousin answered, pulling her rabbit off the edge of her Hufflepuff robes.

"Do you think I'm selfish?"

…

It did not bode well, Rose realized a few seconds later, that it was taking Lily this long to answer.

"Sometimes." Lily finally said after what felt like an eternity. She kept her gaze on Charles as she continued. "Increasingly, in recent years. But that doesn't mean you can't be kind. And when you do do something for someone else's sake, you go all out."

She looked down at her plate as she realized that that answer was basically a well-phrased 'yes', an uncomfortable twist in her gut. Lily, the nicest person she knew, thought she was selfish. _Scorpius,_ a flipping _Malfoy Pureblood,_ thought _she_ was self-centered. "So I'm self-centered… but I'm nice about it?"

"You lack empathy. Especially to people who aren't family. You get so caught up in your own issues you fail to realize what's happening to the other person… I'd say you're more self-absorbed than self-centered."

She half-laughed as Lily unknowingly echoed Scorpius once again. "There's a difference?"

"Yes." The younger girl stated simply. "Self-centered means you _don't_ care about anyone else. Self- _absorbed_ means you care _so_ much about yourself, it makes you forget about everyone else."

It wasn't much of a distinction, but Rose supposed she liked the silver lining of it.

Lily finally looked up at her again, her brown eyes seeming to wander straight into Rose's mind and soul to realize exactly how the older girl felt about this. "I know it's been a rough couple of days. You're gonna look in a mirror and have to decide if you're okay with believing the world revolves around you… or see if you want to learn from this and grow into a different mindset. Until you make that decision I can't help you."

"Help me?" Rose echoed in surprise.

"Yes ' _help you'_ ," she stated, waving her hand again in disapproval at the doubt. Charles lifted onto his back paws to chase his lettuce. "I'm your cousin, it's what I'm for. If you'd like a place to start- if you're interested- try and figure out what's going on between you and Albus. And then try and fix it."

Rose fell silent for a second again, this time glancing at the Gryffindor table where her cousin was talking to Hugo, smiling but not quite as brightly as normal. "...I'll try."

* * *

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was not a morning person. It was a fault, he knew. He was aware how many hours of the day he was prone to waste when given opportunity over summer and winter vacations. A Malfoy did not ignore facts just because they were inconvenient.

The singular action that could promptly wake him in the early mornings, without fail, was the smell of fresh pancakes, baked by his mom and- Skipsy?!

Malfoy jerked awake, his eyes wide as he took a deeper breath. Definitely pancakes. A look around revealed that he was in his claimed room of the guest house, adorned with it's usual Slytherin Posters and diagrams of Quidditch stratagems.

He was home… it was late morning, he confirmed with a glance out the window, and someone was making pancakes.

It couldn't have been a dream, he thought as he walked down the stairs. More specifically a nightmare, to have ended with his house DisEnchanted and Skipsy dead. But to dream an entire semester of Hogwarts was too long and detailed for his usual sleeping material. And why would that blue haired girl from last semester be in it- he hadn't thought about her all summer. It probably wasn't a dream, he told himself firmly, but his heart still sank as he reached the kitchen.

Because there, already dressed and holding the frying pan, was not his mother nor his house elf, but Assistant Orion. The teaching aid turned and nodded at him while flipping a perfectly browned pancake. "You're up. Good; we should return to Hogwarts this morning, preferably soon."

"... I have practice tonight anyways. I'll grab my supplies." Malfoy spoke blandly, his appetite gone. He turned and walked back up the stairs at a far more controlled pace than he'd descended, pausing to look out the window. In the distance he could see Malfoy Manor. It was still swarmed with Ministry investigators and a few dogged reporters. They'd likely be there for weeks more.

He snapped his gaze away and resumed walking. This wasn't the first time that his family had retreated from their proper manor to the little-known guest house at the edge of their property. It had been built in the 18th century when his ancestors had installed plumbing fixtures. Loath as the Malfoys of old were to allow muggles into their home, they were even more averse to living under the same roof while the month-long project ensued. So htye'd built and entire second house for the ordeal. Despite keeping the extra building it hadn't really been used much until his lifetime- after all, his family had plenty of other properties for proper vacations. But with the scrutiny of the Ministry suspicions and prying investigators and lingering Second-War fanatics, Scorpius and his parents had made the building a second home for situations such as this. And often he and his mother would come here for a day or two during his Father's more dangerous experiments.

Still, he'd been perplexed when he and Orion had landed HERE after trying to floo to the manor. Floo travel was- as always- a dizzying blur, but he'd never before _missed_ a chimney. His quick reflexes were the only reason he'd recognised this exit and gotten out in time, Orion shortly behind him.

"Nice place." the assistant had commented, absently swiping off some stray soot.

"...This isn't it. That is." He had pointed across the field, to where a large crowd of reporters had still been gathered and Obliviators had been interrogating then erasing the minds of the muggles that were there.

"Ah. Well then, hat on- let's get in."

Scorpius picked up the apparel that had fall off on his arrival, pulling it down over his blond hair and holding a clunky camera in front of his lower face. The disguise should work- after all, the last things a reporter on scene paid attention to was other reporters. The young Malfoy was mildly disgusted he'd never thought of the simple ruse himself, but would undoubtedly use it again.

Orion had used his metamorphmagi talent to make himself into a far shorter and stouter person, transforming his adorned faculty uniform into plain black robes with a wave of his hand.

The pair had walked around the gates to the back of the property, where Scorpius knew there was a hidden servants' passage. He pulled out his wand and, careful not to let the Assistant hear, murmured the password.

When the magical entrance didn't open Malfoy said it again a bit louder, frowning as he stated "I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Why not go in through a window?" Orion walked to a small one a few yards away, an entrance to the laundry room.

Scorpius had sighed. With all the protection wards and seals on his home, such an endeavor would only get their hands melted off. He was about to say so when the Assistant carelessly opened the latch with a casual "'lohamora," and _didn't_ get blasted ten feet back for the attempt. Instead, the window opened invitingly to allow Orion inside.

Time was wasted blinking between the open window and the concealed passage and back again before Scorpius followed. While he knew his face was still impossible to read, he was worried by the easy infiltration. He'd have to show it to his parents- see if this was how the Manor had been broken into. His thoughts were interrupted by a lingering smell of dirty laundry, and he crinkled his nose in disapproval before casting a quick freshening charm.

Such a distasteful aroma had no place in Malfoy Manor, Scorpius Hyperion frowned. He would have to tell- Skipsy…

His condemnation had vanished in an instant to be replaced with guilt and loss. She was dead, and one of his first thoughts when he got home was about telling her off for slacking. And, horrible as it was, he almost wished he could because that'd mean she was safe and alive.

Scorpius had pushed such useless musings from his mind and led the way into the manor, taking the ridiculous hat off when he saw Orion metamorph back into himself. The pair traveled silently for a short time, until they turned a corner to see an Auror prepared with his wand drawn.

"Hands up," the Magical Law Enforcer commanded, "Who are you and how did you get in here?"

Scorpius prickled at taking any command in the halls of his own home, but did as he was bade. Orion did as well, speaking in a placating tone "I'm an Assistant Professor from Hogwarts, here with the Malfoy heir? He, well, he heard about the attack and wished to make sure things were alright."

"Identification?"

"Um…"

"Take me to my parents," Scorpius spoke up, wanting to expedite this process. "They'll know."

The Auror still looked doubtful, but there was no denying the obvious Malfoy features that Scorpius bore. The blond hair, pale skin and opaque blue-grey eyes certainly supported their story though, so it had been but a matter of time before Scorpius had proven he was who he claimed to be.

He still had trouble believing in the complete disenchantment of his Manor. Scorpius hadn't even known such a feat was even possible, but as the Malfoy returned to his secondary room he knew better than to avoid the truth. His family portraits… he hoped there was a way to free them. It was strange to _hope_ that Ministry CurseBreakers find something amiss in his house instead of just wanting them gone, he mused, but expertise was always appreciated under warranted situations.

He'd come up here to gather his things before going back to school, Scorpius recalled, but as he looked about he found there wasn't really anything he wanted in his dorm. Instead he found himself gravitating to the window again, looking at the Manor as though it would suddenly jump back to magical life and tell them the culprit itself.

He blinked at his uncharacteristically whimsical notion, realizing he must be truly desolate to have allowed such a non-existent possibility even enter his thoughts.

"Scorpius?"

"Mother…" he turned at her voice, seeing her standing in the doorway. To a casual observer she would appear as flawless as ever, her eyes still bright green, her dark hair perfectly curled and her spine, of course, straightened to hold her to a full stature. To her son, however, Astoria could not hide the shadows in her eyes or the minute droop of her shoulders. Her features, while undoubtedly beautiful, were strained with the force it took to control them.

Scorpius would probably see the same thing in a mirror.

Astoria Malfoy offered her child a practiced smile and walked to his side, setting her hands on his shoulders. "Chin up, son. A Malfoy does not leave their woes where the world can see it."

He half-laughed and half-scoffed. "The world is well aware of this one, Mother. Didn't you see the paper?"

"I did." she declared. "But it will pass. I will not have this affecting your studies."

"Hogwarts is hardly my highest priority." he scoffed again.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. I did not raise you to do anything by half measures." She turned her head to look at her son from a different angle. "That being said- what, precisely, has captured your interest so much so as to attain a higher standing than your education?"

He forced himself not to blink, knowing his mother would recognise the tell as he found himself without an acceptable immediate answer. Quidditch would hardly be commendable nor accurate, and neither, he found, was his newest research into the histories of magic. His newest personal challenge to tutor the unskilled was not a particularly good use of his valuable time by his mother's standards. And none of those things ever truly held his undivided attention anyways. Not like his-

"Family." Scorpius stated sincerely, remembering what it had been like to read that article and realize that the indomitable Malfoys had been struck in their own home. He was rewarded as he saw the corner of his mother's mouth twitch in approval.

"An excellent answer." she matched, then asked after a pause "What did you think of your Godfather?"

"Uncle Xavier?" Scorpius asked, using the words to buy a moment for thought. His uncle was quite a character, one that he might not appreciate had he not been in a room of the most powerful politicians in Wizarding Britain. "It was him and one house-elf. And he had an entire room of Aurors, including Potter, on edge."

The young Malfoy was familiar with the notion that one's past and reputation immediately altered the world's perception of oneself. Many a Slytherin would scamper to make way any time their Head of House, Sybble, walked in a room. And students tended to silence when McGonagall went through a hall. They'd also duck for cover on the rare instances when Priscilla displayed a bad mood. Yet all his experiences were displayed by _children_. Yesterday was the first time Scorpius had seen adults show the same kind of deference.

It had been a very palpable display of the power of one's reputation. Xavier had been on par with that of Harry Potter himself but without his Auror's, Scorpius wasn't sure the famed wizard would have held the same power by presence alone. The Malfoy heir made a silent goal to one day have that level of prestige.

"You really think a man of his stature would go anywhere unprotected?"

They never outright spoke of Xavier Avery's underworld dealings, though he had been aware of his Godfather's unorthodox career for years. Usually though Scorpius was hushed out of the room whenever Xavier arrived, if not by his father then by the house elf who never left Xavier's side.

"With as many CurseBreakers that were here he must have been. Nobody could have stayed undetected for long." He paused as an idea came to him. "Unless his elf is more powerful than you'd expect."

Astoria nodded once in confirmation and a touch of pride at his deduction before asking a true query. "What do you know of that Professor downstairs?"

"Jonovan Orion is not a Professor. He's the Teaching Assistant for History of Magic." He clarified because he felt the distinction important. "He's a metamorphmagi. And extremely skilled in wandless magic."

"Really?" she said, conveying intrigue rather than doubt. Metamorphs were rare, after all.

The conversation dwindled as they each thought about what they'd learned.

"Mister Malfoy!" Orion's voice echoed through the house. "Are you ready yet?"

Astoria Malfoy scowled minutely and for a second Scorpius expected his mother to scold the Hogwarts faculty member for his lack of guest manners, but she didn't. Instead she looked at her son and gave a brief but no less warm hug. "Don't fret. We'll find out who attacked our home. Our Skipsy."

Scorpius ducked his head at the reminder of her passing and the brief funeral they'd held. "A Malfoy is not so petty as to seek revenge," he recited.

"A Malfoy does, however, seek to return all favors in kind." His mother finished, green eyes glinting with a rarely-displayed darkness. "And I am a Malfoy as well."

* * *

That slide, Zoey Malam decided with a smile, got a seven out of ten. Would have been an eight, except for the smell. If this place ended up being worth revisiting she'd probably clean it for next time.

Brushing herself off and hoping she'd go nose-blind to the sewage stuff soon enough, Zoey unpacked her broom and felt it's magic thrum like hummingbird wings in anticipation. She patted the black wood fondly, running a thumb over the faded _ZA_ on the hilt.

Rasputin opted to walk instead of ride, the crotchety rodent against air travel. He'd bit not one, not two, but _five_ attendants the one time Jon had taken him on a plane.

Now _that_ had been real a adventure of a day. For multiple reasons- not the least of which was every wizards' fear that Jon's magic would once again release an uncontrolled burst of magic and cause the plane to short circuit and inevitably crash. But it had been fine. Jon, unlike his familiar, enjoyed mechanical flying.

People should fly more often, Zoey decided as she twisted around sharp turns with ease. Especially wizards. Brooms were the best! Sure, they didn't make sense the way the other modes of transportation did… Blimps? The idea there was to be lighter than air. Planes? Zoey had always pictured that as the engines skipping the craft like a rock over a pond. Rockets just exploded into the air cartoon style… but brooms? With no engine to speak of they must use magic to make themselves lighter than air. And then propel themselves at their rider's mental direction and create an exact counterweight of of it's rider. It was an interesting thought, Zoey realized, because that would mean every broom in the world knew the exact weight of every person who'd sat on it.

Whatever the mechanics of a broom, all Zoey _knew_ knew was that it needed no aerodynamics, no propulsion, no equal opposite reaction- basically no physics- to send herself soaring with freedom, and it was _great_. Physics was boring anyways.

This particular scenery wasn't the best, the young Ravenclaw admitted to herself, looking at the damp walls casting reflections on what looked to be a thick layer of grit and grime on everything. The echoing silence was only punctuated by her own mumbles and the stray drip of water falling from the ceiling. Overall this place looked pretty run down- but her keen eyes caught sight of some torches in the walls, and she supposed that with proper lighting it would be much more welcoming. And she was buzzing almost as happily as her broom to zoom around the snaking corners and turns.

She paused every now and again to map her way and estimate how far she'd gotten, the _lumos_ globe locked in a hover a few inches in front of her broomstick.

Finally she turned a corner and then was forced into an abrupt stop. "What the-?" her voice bounced off the walls. "How did this happen?"

The 'this' Zoey was talking about was a complete cave-in, the tunnel blocked by large chunks of rock and broken piping. In the silence that followed the scrabble of claws announced Rasputin's arrival, his energetic panting breaking the hush of their adventure.

"Sorry Raz, was I going too fast?" Zoey mumbled, reaching down to pet him absentmindedly. Most of her focus was on the blocked path. The break looked old- there was no fresh dust on the ground, and the edges were not smooth but not yet worn. She reached out with her magic to see if she could tell what had caused it, but her senses detected no arcane presence to speak of.

A non-magical accident actually had her more worried than a magical trap would have. Were these tunnels unstable? "Maybe we should go back…"

Rasputin finished nibbling her shoelace affectionately and scrambled forward, climbing the rocks with ease and disappearing.

"Raz- Raz-!?" Zoey called out, her previous hesitation forgotten as she scrambled after the errant familiar. She paused as she found a sizable gap in the rocks- it looked like a previous explorer had cleared a person-sized tunnel on the top. She could easily crawl in on all fours. And back out. Assuming the tunnel was stable and would not collapse in the meantime.

Her mind was made as she heard Rasputin emitting a strange sound. "You Razmanian Devil, if you got yourself stuck-" she warned as she made it through, careful not to scratch her mom's broom in the passage.

The matlap was rolling on the ground, his small tongue lolling happily as he wriggled in a noxious goop that Zoey apparently had been smelling since her arrival.

"... you are _so_ getting a bath." she declared, covering her nose and suppressing her gag reflex.

He paused to glare at her disapprovingly, then defiantly resumed his mud wallowing. His spikes made divots and streaks in the moist ground.

She stopped to get on her broom again, not wanting to put her shoes in whatever Rasputin was covering himself with. As she traveled she noticed with interest that it was, strangely, not truly a goop puddle that he'd found but a long line of something that appeared to be decomposing.

"Well," the Ravenclaw chastised herself for her curiosity, "I _am_ in a sewage system…"

Rasputin reluctantly got back to his paws and followed her, a few shed snake scales clinging to his spikes.

The air got cleaner the farther they traveled, and then their way was blocked once again. This barrier, though, was far more official.

A solid wall of brick and mortar now barred the path, a walkway leading up to it directing her to a carved nest of serpents, their eyes glittering with emeralds.

The hair on the back of Zoey's neck stood up in the presence of the green gems. The door- for her magic was most definitely telling her that this was yet another concealed entrance- simmered with a sharp energy that crackled and hissed like boiling acid. And those gems felt like a conduit for part of it.

She descended from her broom and stood on her own two feet, her instinct telling her that decorum and poise would be helpful here. The emerald's magic licked over her, testing her out as she approached.

"Hi to you too." Zoey mumbled, disliking the sensation but not blocking it yet. Instead she reached out experimentally with her newly acquired senses. 'Acidic' was definitely the word she'd use to describe its reaction to her intrusion, but she sensed that the magic wasn't actually repelling her exploration… yet.

So, another magical door to slip by. All right. She rubbed her hands together before reaching out to stroke the stone scales of the carving on the left, the physical action helping her direct and mold the intangible image in her mind.

Zoey focused on bringing the aggressive magic from a bubbling simmer down to a soft smoulder, trying the calm it the way she would Rasputin on a bad day.

Having none of that, the magic struck out and back like a whip, a stinging sensation shooting up her arm for her intrusion.

She hissed in shock and distantly heard Rasputin growl as he realized she was hurt, but she had ceased registering the tangible world. Right now Zoey's authority had just been challenged- and if she didn't react immediately, she would not only lose an opportunity to establish dominance but she might not get another.

The Ravenclaw didn't question the wild instinct and instead struck back at the magic, but instead of a returned blow Zoey laid her power down thick and heavy, a smothering blanket that cushioned her from it's continuing attacks.

The invisible battle continued for a few moments before the magic- old and powerful but still limited by the very nature of its existence- had to stop exerting itself else risk disenchantment.

Zoey took a breath and patted the carving, easing her metaphorical 'weight'. "Much better. Now, let me through?"

She sensed its dissatisfaction, but it didn't have much a choice in the matter. One of the other snakes moved in a slither across the edge of the doorway, ancient locks and barriers releasing with heavy metallic clanks, and then the wall slid open to the side to reveal the chamber behind it. She raised the _lumos_ globe like a weapon in preparation for the other side, but instead she almost dropped it in shock.

"Wow…" the word echoed in the solitary silence, as though returning to agree with her because _this_ place most definitely deserved resounding appreciation.

As she stepped inside the chamber a spark of magic ignited, a chain of smoke puffs that lit a long row of torches mounted in more snake statues. The space was easily the size of the Great Hall and maybe twice as tall. Pillars the size of oak trees rose up, covered in more snake carvings embedded with yet more emeralds.

Her awe made the place less threatening. Whether that was just because of her mindset, or if the magical chamber sensed her opinion was a moot point. Either way she walked and spun down the center aisle without worry, not wanting to miss a single angle of the shimmering scape.

"More snakes," she mumbled, passingly wondering if this chamber had once been a cult gathering of some sort. "The bearer of knowledge, the poisoned fruit…"

She stopped as she reached a pool of water at the end of the passage, looking up at a large carving of a bearded wizard. His chest was puffed with pride and his mouth was open as though in preparation to give an announcement of great importance… but somehow, his face just reminded her of a chimpanzee. "Wonder who you were."

A waft of cinnamon and a squeak distracted Zoey from her finding, making her turn away from the ancient carving. "Raz?"

This time the murtlap actually had gotten himself stuck, his front half partway through a shadowed grate. His back legs scrambled for a push hold but the one-way nature of his spikes made retreat impossible, and he squeaked pitifully at his own predicament. As Zoey walked to get him her light revealed a door that had been casually tucked in the shadows, the latch unlocked and actually a bit ajar.

Zoey walked inside and grabbed Rasputin's tiny paws from the front, tugging him free with a wet squelch. He clambered up her arms and licked her once with gratitude before jumping back to the ground, leaving greasy footprints.

"That was intentional, wasn't it?" she groused as she looked at the grime he'd transferred all down her front. She'd swear his tail flicked in a very self-satisfied manner, but Rasputin didn't respond other than that.

Another torch lit on it's own, and after she'd blinked the spots out of her eyes she could see that this new room was a octagon. No, wait- the Ravenclaw counted again- a septagon. At the corners were narrow passages to yet more rooms, illuminated by the glowing torch hovering over a stone table in the very center of the space. The brick-and-mortar walls were replaced by carved white marble, with black symbols etched in them.

Zoey recognized some of the writing as runes, embedded with a magic that made her eyes strain to read even a single line. The others were in different languages, some blocked and square, others angled and overlapping itself, and still more…

One type of scrypt, a curved and sliding one that resembled cursive, and been burned off. The wall itself was warped as though an inexplicable force had managed to melt solid stone.

Not inexplicable, the Malam had to remind herself, just very powerful "Magic."

She turned in another circle, glanced at the still-open door and grate she and Raz had come through, then walked down one of the passages. It led to a near identical room with the same setup, but this room had two charred walls instead of one.

Curiosity incited, Zoey started to walk faster and faster, her broom still in hand. Some rooms had two burns, others one or three- two of them were unmarred and one had five walls of ruined texts, but she figured out the pattern soon enough.

Pausing to catch her breath, Zoey looked at this latest room to confirm. Some of the runic writing had been burned, but _all_ of the squiggly text had been seared away. "What's so different about you?" she wondered, touching a stray letter that had survived the damage.

Rasputin leaned in and sniffed as well, but his senses were no more informative than hers had been.

When she turned away from the wall Zoey paused as she realized this room was different from the others. Beside the center table, a marble statue was poised. The same man from the previous room was standing in far less ceremonial robes, dressed simpler and the stone beard- which had touched the ground in the larger chamber- thrown over the sharp shoulder as though to stay out of his way when he walked.

The angular pedestal of the statue- she hadn't seen all the sides yet but going with the theme she'd also guess it was septagonal- had a plaque and a name.

"Salazar." She read aloud, the name tickling her memory. Zoey's head snapped up and she ran around the room to get a better look at the face. "You're Salazar _Slytherin?"_

Zoey Malam was eager to get a better look at the countenance of a Hogwarts founder. She wondered if the sculptor would have caught his finer details, shown the facial mars and blemishes or instead glossed over them as older artists had been prone to do. So far the young Ravenclaw was pleasantly surprised that this statue was standing in a more relaxed posture, as though it wasn't truly posing at the moment. She wondered if his eyebrows were as long as his beard, and expected he at least had a crooked nose. Most people in the medieval ages got punched in the face at least once in their life.

What she did _not_ expect was for the stone face to turn and look back at her, or for the marble mouth to move and answer her passing query in a heavy accent. "That I am."

* * *

The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was full of secrets. Secrets that it guarded well. Zoethia Malam believed the school itself had an awareness- and whether or not that was right, it was certainly true that it would take even a worthy individual a lifetime to learn every one of Hogwarts' undisclosed aspects.

The young Mauraders, in making their map of Hogwarts, had certainly discovered more about their school than any previous students. Or teachers. Or ghosts, as few of them had any interest in the inanimate. There was, however, one being that had been to every nook and cranny of the ancient school.

That being, of course, was a certain blue-skinned individual that had deemed himself The Master of Mischief and Mayhem. Who steadfastly refused to find another abode to haunt. Who, at this very moment, was having trouble remembering what had happened to his gobstones.

Peeves the Poltergeist of Hogwarts floated alone in the trophy room, upside down in the air as he pondered. He liked gobstones. Gobstones were fun. They made people smelly- that's what made them fun. They were almost as good as dungbombs.

He giggled under his breath as thought of the wizarding world's more recent prank supply.

Inspired, the blue poltergeist reached to his right, into a pocket of _vanished_ space that always followed him. His hand grabbed what he found in there and pulled it out of thin air, and Peeves frowned. He didn't _want_ a walking stick! The centuries-old being pouted and threw it over his shoulder. He wanted a- a-

-A gobstone! That was right! He put the cane away and reached for another of the many _vanished_ storages around him. Peeves passingly counted the number of canes, dungbombs, chicken feathers and various other things that he had stashed away for situations just such as this.

This situation, the poltergeist thought without realizing that he'd completely forgotten his mission mere minutes before, where Bwue had been hurt, and that was not allowed. That was not right. He needed to get back at- at a- a weasel!

Peeves frowned as even his fractured mind realized that didn't make much sense, and then he remembered. Not _A_ weasel, _the_ Weezle girl! Nosy-Rosy!

Nosy-Rosy had had a friend protecting her the first time he'd gone after her, but not the second time! Oh no, this morning Peeves had been extra careful to make sure nobody saw him set up the gobstone circles around her room. Little Nosy woke up to a nasty surprise, she did. Very fun to watch, Peeves remembered smugly.

Then he drooped, an odd sensation since drooping 'down' floated the inverted poltergeist a few inches closer to the ceiling. He'd used all his gobstones. All he had now were muggle marbles, and he usually lost those.

Peeves needed to get more gobstones. How many did he have? He reached into another pocket, grabbing a handle and pulling the item out.

Now, not being truly alive, the poltergeist of Hogwarts had limited senses. Peeves didn't have much of a sense of 'touch' beyond knowing something was there, he couldn't see to the horizon, taste was nonexistent for him and his hearing was about that of an eighty year old's. Why else would he always be yelling?

But even with _his_ muted smell, the blue poltergeist gagged for a moment at what was in his own hands. He looked down at the basket and saw- eggs! He had eggsies! How long had it been since he'd used eggsies?

Peeves's grin split like a knife upon his face and he flew away, eager to use them.

Flying! Soaring! Peeves cackled with glee as he rushed through the school, looking for little Nosy. The basket tipped a few times in his haste, and the retching gags of students fleeing from the stench of long-rotten eggs trailed in the wake of his laughter.

He was going to the- where was he going? He paused, a few more eggs flying forward and to the ground from his momentum. What would be the most fun?

Um… ickle firsties! They were fun!

Pleased with the plan, Peeves rushed to the Great Hall. He turned invisible with a thought, giggling as he maneuvered the basket- still very visible- around the floating candles. He'd only have time for one or two throws before someone called in McGonagall or Bloody Baron, so he'd have to make them count.

Who first, who first?

Hm… lets see… there was the little bronze birdies, working on homework. Bleagh. Homework was boring. He moved away from Ravenclaw table as though boredom was catching.

Lets see- the green snakies! Peeves grinned and grabbed an egg out of his basket, preparing to throw it with precision aim into a goblet when-

A spell fzzed by him close enough to curl his pointed shoes, and Peeves jumped as one of the candles next to him disappeared in a miniature implosion. His eyes were wide as he looked down to see that in the sea of hundreds of silly oblivious students, there was one not-so oblivious student looking up at him and his basket.

The invisible poltergeist paled as he recognized who it was. It was Priscilla. NOT a Silly Student. A very Mean student.

He rushed to the opposite side of the great Hall.

Hrm, Gryffindors. Much better. Peeves liked Gryffindors. He really liked the two dopplegangers a little while back, the red haired ones. They were fun.

Decision made to play with the Gryffindors today, Peeves looked at his options. There was Daniel the Boy Head, urm Rose Weezle, and a group of firsties and- Rose Weezle, and the Leaning Derving girl and- why did he feel like throwing his precious eggs at Rose Weezle?

Peeves tilted his head, a niggling sensation at the back of his mind not enough to let him truly remember but enough to make him follow through on the instinct.

He carefully positioned himself above the girl, who was trying to talk to someone that obviously wasn't interested.

"C'mon Albus," she was saying, "I've already said I was sorry. What can I do to make it better?"

The boy mumbled something under his breath and got to his feet, obviously intending to leave.

"What, that's it? You're just going to- to run away from me the way you've been running from James all semester?"

Albus Severus Potter paused, obviously taking offense to that. "I'm not 'running' from anything."

Nosy-Rosy scoffed. "Oh really? Then what would you call it?"

"... a strategic maneuver."

"Riiiight. How's that been working out for you the past three months? Or should I stick the summer into that and say seven? 'Cuz a strategy is 'a plan of action or a policy designed to achieve a major or overall aim', Albus. You're little silent treatment against James never worked, and it's not gonna work on me either."

He tapped on his fingers on his bag in silent contemplation., then he glanced at her hopeful face and raised an eyebrow. "You know, Rose, it would be really nice if instead of goading me into a conversation you actually came up with your _own_ way to make amends."

"I… That… Albus, I-"

Whatever Rose Weasley might have said was never discovered as Peeves lost interest in the conversation. And so, with experienced precision the poltergeist plucked one of his aged eggs like it was a delicate flower and let go. It didn't _just_ hit her, oh no- it hit the Nosy Weezle on the head in the exact right spot to not only crack on impact, but for the rotten ooze to drip down her forehead and over her face.

Her shriek was drowned out by the echoing cries of her house, rushing away from the stench even a single projectile emitted.

Peeves cackled maniacally, pleased at his success. That was fun!

Let's do it again.

He pulled out some more eggs, tossing them at fleeing students and into goblets but always finding himself centering back on Rose Weezle, hitting her once or twice between every one of his other targets.

This was so much fun! Peeves laughed some more, then checked to see how many of his eggs he had left.

His moment of distraction cost him dearly as James Sirius Potter- as always fiercely protective of his family- cast a spell at the only part of the poltergeist which was visible to his victims: the basket. With blast of magic he shoved it out of Peeves' hands and through the air, ripping the aged wicker in half and making a mess, but saving his Housemate's and more importantly Rose from any further torment.

Peeves' wail echoed and he became visible. His eggs! _All_ of his eggs were now gone because he'd put them in one basket! He grabbed the belled ends of his hat and angrily pulled in opposite directions. They should _warn_ people about things like that!

This wasn't fun. This wasn't fun at all. He blew a raspberry at James- and another at Rosy because he felt like it- and left, followed by the angry jeers of the students he'd tormented.

He flew through a wall then turned around and kicked it. He _liked_ that basket, why would they break it? And yell at him? He was just- just playing…

His fragmented mind overlapped with a multitude of emotional options. He could be mad about his basket. Sad about the eggs. Confused about his own fixation on Rose Weezle. Hurt by the rejection of the Hogwarts students. Who, when all was said and done, he really did want to be liked by. But even those sensations were fleeting and so he was left with one conclusion.

That was no fun. At. All. Peeves grabbed the end of his coat. He needed to do something _really_ fun, he decided. With someone nice. Someone that liked him. Like, um, like Bwue!

Yeah, yeah… he'd go find Bwue! Bwue was nice. She called him a- a… a sweet pie, he smiled as he remembered, and went to follow the feel of her magic.

* * *

"In conclusion," Odetta Oakinson said, standing atop a bench in the locker room to give herself a much-needed height advantage over her Slytherin peers. "We know Gryffindor is good. And James may be the fastest flyer in the school, but we can work around that. Try to slow him down, but take care of yourself- this is still a scrimmage, after all. A season-ending injury here would be just plain stupid."

"And BECAUSE this is a scrimmage," she went on, her tone turning to a warning, "Anything we do tomorrow won't be as effective for the real season. So we're gonna keep the game vanilla. Only use basic plays. If that costs us the match, so be it."

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy stood at the back of his teammates and rolled his eyes at the murmurs of dissent from the starting chasers.

"Our goal is the Quidditch Cup, not to burn out early in a blaze of glory that nobody remembers." Her tone made her own distaste of that possibility palpable, and the team-for the briefest of moments- unified in agreement.

"Starters, I want you in bed by ten. And don't give me that look McNair," Odetta chided her star Chaser, "We all know that if we let the rest of the House question us about quidditch we won't go to bed till three in the morning. And since I want every one of you back in here for warmups by seven thirty, that doesn't leave much time for your beauty sleep."

"More's the pity," Francis muttered, sitting in the groups of reserves. He spoke at just the right tone to carry and for the team to laugh at the light joke, relieving the tension that had built.

Odetta let the laughter die down before she spoke. "All right Starters, hit the showers. Reserves, if I could have a moment?"

Scorpius settled in again as the starters shuffled out, particularly watching the Chasers thumping fists and shoulders in a very bravado manner. They were all at least five eight and weighed over two hundred pounds. In contrast the reserves, who like himself were slighter framed. Even after a light practice against the starters he was once again sporting a fresh series of bruises. Had Scorpius expected his teammates to go easy on him because of what was going on in his homelife, he would have been sorely disappointed.

As it were, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy had held no such illusions whence coming to practice and had indeed been looking forward to a bodily match that offered a welcome distraction and goal. He'd led the reserves in a stellar mimic of the Gryffindor playing style, and in his personal opinion Slytherin would easily win tomorrow if they used their Captain's new strategy.

Odetta was right, however, that tomorrow's scrimmage was a battle worth losing to win a war. And as his first official year on the team Scorpius was determined to aid Slytherin House win the Quidditch Cup.

"Alright you guys," the captain spoke after her starters had left, looking at the reserves with the same authority. "Like I said, tomorrow is all about learning. So, I want all of you to keep your eyes on the whole field, look for gaps in their strategy _and_ ours. Scorpius-"

Were he not a Malfoy he might have started in surprise at being called out. As it were, he kept impeccable composure and only blinked once under the sudden attention of his captain and the other reserves.

"I've been looking at your game notes. They're really good- almost as good as mine. I'll make some too of course, but I'm going to actually be _in_ the game and looking for the snitch. So here-" she pulled out her spiral and held it to him. "I'm counting on you to write down everything you see as it happens."

Scorpius was not able raise his head nor puff his chest with pride as a Malfoy always held themself with the impeccable poise of a Pureblood, so instead he allowed a small, rare smile to grace his features. From a glorified ball chaser to an official reserve and now to co-strategist with the Captain in a single season. It was about time things started changing around here. He took the green-leatherbound book and kept a firm grip, looking from Odetta to the other reserves.

Originally, he'd disapproved of the notion for the Quidditch team even having 'reserves'. Slytherin should only work with the best, not flounder about with second pickings that only hovered for overflow prestige. Now that he'd worked with them though, he knew they, like himself, didn't _just_ aim for their own success one day but instead for the betterment of their colleagues. They didn't follow around like a fanclub or just participate in the workout, they practiced hard and did their best to be strong opponents to bring the entire team up a level.

…well, most of them worked hard, Scorpius corrected with a glance at the reserve Keeper. Marik Tybalt was conceited and sloppy at best. He only hoped their real keeper, Diane, would never be injured, because without her topnotch skills the team would be crippled.

Seeing the mix of pride and jealousy that his teammates felt at his task, Scorpius set out to fix that. He had no desire for any further disharmony on the team.

"Cromase," He called out to his fellow chaser reserve. "Make sure you bring some paper too. I'll probably dictate as much as I write."

Francis Cromase, unlike Scorpius, did give a jolt at being called out. Then he grinned and nodded firmly. "You can count on me."

Odetta hummed slightly as she realized the motivation of what Scorpius had just done and looked at him for a moment, then addressed the group again. "That's it today. Hit the showers and get your dinners. Oh and one of you boys make certain McNair gets to bed on time- we already lost Jackson and Bulstrode to Sybble's suspension, we don't need any players napping on the pitch tomorrow."

* * *

The marble statue continued moving after his first words, setting his arms up his sleeves and the entire base twisting on the floor so that he was facing her.

Rasputin jumped and hissed at it, his striped spikes puffing threateningly as he moved in front of Zoey.

The statue scoffed lightly. "I am made of stone, creature. Surely you realize that those are useless upon me."

The spikes settled, but the murtlap continued to growl and bare fangs. He only stopped to climb up Zoey's pants and perch on her shoulder.

"Salazar Slytherin. _The_ Salazar Slytheirn." Zoey mumbled, then grinned and walked up to the statue as she asked everything that came to mind. "You're animate! Like portraits! I _knew_ it was possible for a bust to talk- though, you're bigger than a bust. But you're smaller in here than the you outside. Ooh does that one move too? How _are_ you moving? Is it something similar to the way chess pieces move on a board? Hey- how did you talk? You're mouth moved, but there's no way the sculptor was able to give you lungs. Wait… how do you _see?"_ She waved a hand in front of the smooth eyes.

Marble fingers rose to pinch the bridge of a slightly-crooked nose. "One of Rowena's lads, I see. Well, hurry up. Tell me the year."

"Oh- oh right! You probably can't tell time down here. Wow that must be lonely. How long has it been?"

The lips twitched in mild amusement and he said patiently "That is what I am trying to ascern, lad."

"Right, right. It's 2020." Zoey paused, then repeated "Lad?"

"Eighty years then. Seventy-six to be more precise." He did the math easily, and then looked her up and down. "A Ravenclaw this time, then. The last lad was one of mine. A True Slytherin."

"...what made him a 'true' Slytherin'?" she asked, remembering that people made that comment often among Hogwarts Houses. She was having trouble understanding parts of his old English accent, but the more they spoke the easier it got.

"He was clever. Determined. He wouldn't let anything stop his goals. In the three years he knew of The Chamber he learned much." the statue turned to one of the damaged walls with a frown. "Then he burned everything he'd learned so that no one else would learn those secrets."

"Oh- oh! Then these are- what? Lessons?" Zoey looked at the walls with new interest.

"Indeed. The strongest magic I, and my cofounders, mastered. As well as a few of Rowena and Helga's basic techniques which I found important to the safety and growth of students."

"What about Gryffindor's?"

The stone face couldn't move much, but it tilted in a way that Zoey expected would become a frown if it could. "... his few worthwhile points for contribution are included, yes."

Huh. So the original Slytherin and Gryffindor really hadn't get along. Zoey would have pegged that as just a false rumor facilitated by the rivalry between the current students.

"So…" Zoey asked curiously, looking at the walls herself. "So, why did you leave all this stuff down here? I mean… why not put these carvings in the Great Hall?"

The statue tilted his head minutely as though the question had a complicated answer. "These magics are power itself. Not every child, even with the purest blood, is worthy to learn them. Many who try will go mad or die."

Zoey ignored the allusion to Pureblood supremacy- she never paid attention to that anyways. She was more concerned by the potential lethality of the texts surrounding her. "So, what? The gooey bathroom slide and snake doors were a test?"

"One that not many have passed over the last millennia. And to my discredit, only a handful of which were Parseltongues."

"Papermouthwhatnow?"

"Par-sel-tongue." He overpronounciated, which didn't actually help much through his accent. "Snake-speakers. And whenupon a level of power is achieved, controllers. Like myself."

Her mind came up with the image of Salazar wearing a turban and charming a snake with a flute, and Zoey had to bite the inside of her cheek very, very hard to keep herself from breaking out in laughter. "That- um, that's unique."

"Indeed. It, like a multitude of magics, is an inherited skill." He looked her over again and added for the record "That entrance, when _I_ made it, was a trapdoor. Then Hogwarts accommodated _muggle_ piping and decided the seemingly empty room was ideal for a bathroom. Cornivus Gaunt- my only pupil at the time- was not skilled enough for a relocation, and so was forced to disguise it. In a _girl's_ bathroom."

"... through the sewage pipes." Zoey finished, smiling at bit as she recognized his frustration. Salazar Slytherin, building a secret classroom for the strongest and what he probably considered the most noble of magics for 'the few worthy students'... could now only be visited through a bathroom. And a girl's bathroom at that. That had to chafe his Slytherin pride. Or- would it be just plain normal pride, since he _was_ Slytherin?"

Sure enough he changed the subject. "You seem to have several questions, lad. Perhaps you should move on to more relevant ones."

"So…" she obliged him, thinking back to the whole snake-charmer thing. "That's it? Unless you're born with the ability to talk to snakes, you'll never be able to? That seems weird. How then could the first person had learned it? There's always a first. I don't believe the whole chicken-and-egg thing. Or- phoenix and flame."

"There is the Enchantment of Tongues." He gestured to one of the walls of runic text. "An equally innate skill for some, it allows you to speak with anything. Well, anything magical that is."

"Ah. So, for example, I couldn't go to China or Taiwan and use it to speak to muggles. Or to talk to a plant or a rock."

Salazar's eyes narrowed. "It also requires a certain degree of intelligence in the receiving party. You _might_ have a chance with the plant."

This time, the insult made Zoey match his expression. While she did not care if people had superiority complexes, she loved her _muggle_ Aunt and Uncle very much and would not let anyone belittle them. Not even a Founder of Hogwarts.

Before she could answer though cackling laughter bounced off the walls, shortly followed by a careening blur of blue-and-maroon that burst into the septagonal room like a hurricane.

"Peeves?" Zoey said in surprise, stepping back to make space for the poltergeist to settle. "What are you doing here?"

Rasputin- had _he_ the gift of Tongues- would have commented that it was odd for his Second Master to be rattled by a poltergeist she knew but completely unphased by a moving, talking statue. Instead the Albanian Murtlap was forced to settle for a sneeze in the poltergeist's general direction.

"Found Bwue!" Peeves declared happily, then asked in an echoing whisper "What's Bwue doing in Secret place?"

"Exploring." she smiled, then laughed. "Of course you'd know the way here already. Hey, have you met Salazar?"

"Saladzar!" he cried and spun upside down before tipping his hat to the statue, saying with a bouncing rhythm "Many a millen-i-a since I've last seen-i-ya!"

"Pev?" The statue said with a touch of confusion. "You're- bluer than I saw you last."

"Peeves wasn't always blue?"

"Not at all. And I believe his name is 'Pev'."

"Ah. Well, no wonder people started calling him 'Peeves' instead. He can be a peeve. Not all the time though, though most people don't seem to get that. And really, he's very fun to be around. My first friend at Hogwarts." She smiled fondly as she remembered the day she'd stood on the banister.

Salazar Slytherin's statue tilted his head at her, not recognizing the meaning of a word that hadn't existed in his era. "What is a 'peeve'?"

"It- it's a, uh-" Zoey blushed to her ears, not wanting to define the insulting word with the poltergeist himself right in front of them. She looked at him nervously, but he seemed not to care about the topic. Instead he was righting himself in the air and squaring up to face the marble statue.

"Peeves," He defined himself with great bravado and importance, "Is a Sweet Pie."

Rasputin made a hacking wheeze that sounded very similar to a laugh and Zoey shushed him while trying to stifle her own amusement. "That- that's absolutely right Peeves."

The poltergeist beamed.

Salazar hummed under his breath, then the topic of names made him realize that he had his own query. "So what is _your_ name, lad?"

"Zoethia Malam. But everyone calls me Zoey. And- I'm a girl, not a 'lad'."

Once again the marble features made his expression hard to read, but the tone of his voice was undeniable. "A lady? In that attire?"

"Hey, you try looking perfect after crawling through a cave-in after sliding down a _bathroom_ pipe." Zoey looked down at herself, silently blaming Rasputin once again for the worst of the fresh stains. "Oh- oh _wait,_ you mean the pants. Yeah, girls wear pants now. It's normal."

"Is that not a disgrace?"

Rasputin, tired of hearing this rock's disapproval of his Second Master, started growling at the statue again.

"Nope. In fact, it's functional. It's got pockets." Zoey grinned and displayed them, then added "Plus, it's pretty hard to ride a broom in a skirt. I don't know how to sidesaddle."

Salazar just shook his head and mumbled something under his breath about the changing times. "Well then- I suppose it's time for your first lesson."

"My what?" Zoey asked, frowning and starting to panic. "Wait wait wait- you _just said_ that people have died doing this stuff! Or gone mad! I'm already crazy enough and- and I'm terrible at magic!"

"False. You must have potential, otherwise you would not have made it all the way here. You're not a Parseltongue," He knew because she hadn't even known the word. "How did you get through an enchanted door?"

"I- I, uh…" she paused, looking between Peeves and the statue. She wasn't supposed to talk about her atypical abilities, but she supposed that neither of them would be able to tell anyone. "I don't know, exactly. I just… can."

"I know." The statue said with a trace of smugness.

"Of course you do."

Sarcasm, it seemed, had not existed in Salazar's era, for the statue straightened and preened at the compliment. "So, time for lesson one."

He raised a marble hand and snapped stone fingers. Zoey felt her heart sink as she heard, in the distance, the creak of closing hinges. She tried once more to reason with him. "That's it? You're just gonna keep me down here until I agree to learn from you? You have no idea who I am! For all you know I could be a- a murdering psychopath that wandered in here on accident, and you're about to teach me the most powerful magics of old!"

"Are you a murdering psychopath?"

"What- NO!" She cried, insulted that he'd actually seemed to think it possible. "I just- I didn't come here to _learn_."

"Then why are you at Hogwarts?"

"Well, yeah that's why I'm at Hogwarts- awesome school by the way good job making it love it all- but not _here_ here _._ I was just exploring, it's Saturday night!"

"Wonderful. That means you won't have to be at class tomorrow, you'll have time to pass."

Zoey groaned, finally relenting to the inevitable.

The statue saw her surrender and smiled contentedly. "Lesson one, Malam. Persuasion."

"... Persuasion?"

"Indeed. Persuade me, young Sorceress, to let you leave now that you know of this place."

* * *

 _Aaaand that's a wrap!_

 _Just so you know- part of the reason this was so late is because we are so excited for the next chapter we lost focus and ended up writing some of those scenes first. (anyone ever had that problem? Yea, nea...?) Thanks for the read and please review!_

 _~E_


	28. Ch 28 Grudge Match

**Ch 28- Grudge Match**

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HUUUGE _shoutout to the people that reviewed! I now have over fifty! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! keep it coming- I would willing read your every thought as you go, so send me the ones you're willing to share! if you wanna pm questions ya'll can feel free to do that as well!_

 _I loved that you guys are on board with Salazar's Chamber of Secrets actually being a place you can learn a thing to two- and, you know, meet the founder himself!_

 _Thanks for the extra long review Grey, I was so psyched to hear from you again! good analogy between Scorpius and Albus, and definitely keep your eye on Rose- they've all still got some character growing to do. (They're still 14, after all)_

 _To J and Magika9- ya'll rock! I loved getting repeat reviews as you guys caught up with my story- please keep it up!_

 _So, when I finished ch 27 I had eight thousand words of this chapter written out... when I presented them to my beta's, they threw half of it out the window and told me to start again. XP Not gonna lie, that was a bit annoying, but ultimately I'm glad they did. Those scenes really improved because of them and ergo this whole chapter became a lot better as a result, so thanks guys! (that's right, there's two of them now. Without them I would take even LONGER between updates, so you should thank them too! hint-hint nudge-nudge)_

 _This chapter, by the way, is 22,688 words long. Twenty-two thousand, six hundred eighty-eight words. TWENTY TWO_ THOUSAND, _SIX_ HUNDRED, _EIGHTY-EIGHT!_

 _Sooo... yeah. This may take more than one sitting to get through. You have been warned. :) enjoy!_

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When the door closed Rasputin turned and hissed, his quills rising.

Persuade him? Zoethia Malam tilted her head at the enchanted statue. "Well- I mean, what else would you do? It's rather hard to 'persuade' an outcome if I don't know what the opposing options are…"

"I control this entire chamber." Salazar Slytherin declared. "Thou wilt not leave here if I do not permit it."

"We've already established that I can open magically locked doors, though." Zoey said with a note of triumph. Her heart was racing not in fear, but excitement- she'd missed this. It was like the Ravenclaw Tower discussions. Debating a topic with someone, win or lose, was a great thrill of wit against wit. "Plus… you're talking about murder there."

"I am."

Her laugh of disbelief died at his serious tone, and her mouth gaped for a few moments. "I- what? You- you're Salazar Slytherin! You aren't going to kill me. You made this place- _all of Hogwarts-_ because you wanted to teach kids! Like me! You can't kill a kid!"

"In my era, thou would have been an adult set to marry by now."

Zoey had an immediate 'ick' response to the idea, shuddering and shaking her head. "Okay, fine- medieval child-labor ideals aside, you'd still be _murdering_ me." She paused and glanced around the room. "Plus, if you _did_ have a habit of killing people who came down here, where are they? I don't see any bones."

"How morbid." The stone man admonished, but his lips were set in the slightest of smiles. "Since you ask, I can flood these tunnels at will. Bodies and any other unsavories get drained to the lake. Would you like a demonstration?"

Not waiting for an answer, Salazar raised marble fingers and snapped, the small sound echoing far louder than it should have. Zoey turned her head as she heard the approach of distant water, and watched as it poured in through the same grate Rasputin had climbed through.

Trails of chilled water advanced over the uneven floor like encroaching snakes, and Zoey took a few steps back before chiding herself. It was _rising water,_ dashing to the next room would be no help. And even with her broom, she wasn't certain she could make it past magical doors and fly to the exit before she drowned.

So- options. She didn't have many. Since escaping on her own power wasn't possible, Zoey would have to talk to Salazar. Her throat was dry and she gulped nervously- it seemed it was _her_ who had wandered into a room with a murdering psychopath. She had never before been so grateful to have been a Ravenclaw; without exposure to her House's persisting debates, Zoey knew she'd probably be panicking right now. As it was… she could at least act like she had a chance here.

Rule one of a live debate was not to let an opponent know when they'd rattled you. That, and win. Walking over to the center table like death threats were a daily occurrence, Zoey put her broom back into its case. No point in letting it get water damaged.

As she snapped the latches shut she took a deep breath then turned back to look at Salazar. "You're contradicting yourself. You just explained that this place was made so you could tutor students on advanced arts. This is _not_ meant to be some kind of elaborate venus fly trap."

"Planet Venus has naught to do with _my_ actions."

Well that was a failed reference. Zoey tried instead "Baited fish hook? How do _you_ benefit from killing students instead of tutoring them- us?" Zoey adjusted at the last second, going for the personal appeal.

"Many would die to obtain these texts. Many _would_ die if they fell into the wrong hands. And so, I must be willing to do the same to protect them."

Again with the contradictions- if he didn't want these spells known in future generations, why would he have them down here in the first place? As the water rose higher Zoey decided to stay more focused on the topic of whether or not she should become one of those dead people rather than question his flawed establishment. After all, insults were probably detrimental to her survival chances at this point. "Yet I know none of them. I've been here for all of- what, an hour? That's not enough time to decipher let alone understand any of these spells. Why kill me when I can just leave at this point with no attained knowledge?"

"You walk in Rowena's footsteps." The statue scoffed confidently, the current picking up speed. "Thou will return."

… touche. Her Ravenclaw curiosity was already burning like a bonfire at the back of her mind and most certainly would not let her sleep peacefully without figuring out every one of the scripts down here. However- "That's not an answer."

"... I cannot risk that you'd reveal this location to others."

Okay, good. She started working out the cornerstone of his argument. "Okay, okay… secrecy is a must. Got it. You're not exactly going to be able to follow me around to watch what I say or don't. Of course you're worried. Only way three men can keep a secret is if two are dead." Maybe she shouldn't have said that bit out loud… "Buuut in this case, killing me would guarantee people finding you."

The water, which had lazily reached up to her knees at this point, stopped its advance. The statue looked her over. "Elaborate."

"A student goes missing in the middle of the school year? Yeah, sorry, people will notice." Zoey crossed her arms to hide the deep breath she took, trying not to rush her words. " _Modern_ ideals will take the disappearance of a child veeeeery seriously. My cousin is part of the faculty, too. He won't rest until he finds out what killed me and destroys it, so that would expose your little secrets I assure you."

"And how will he know your fate was murder?"

"I'm friends with merfolk. I took on a kelpie at the Sorting Ceremony. And I went to swim camp every summer. He'd _never_ believe I would drown."

"Merfolk and a kelpie?" Salazar's statue repeated with interest.

She crossed her fingers hopefully. "I'll tell you all about it- if, you know, I get to live past tonight."

He gave a dry chuckle of amusement at her paltry bribe, raising his hand and the flow of water once again.

"Hey- wait- seriously! Think about it!" Zoey panicked a bit as the water reached her middle. "You wanted a student- here I am!"

"My last pupil repaid his apprenticeship by destroying my best works." Stone eyes narrowed hatefully upon the burned walls, Salazar's ire directed toward the one that'd marred them. "Perhaps I have decided to be more selective in my tutelage."

Zoey's hands fidgeted in the air as she tried to gather her thoughts, opening and closing before pointing and retreating, and eventually she put one on her forehead. "You're a hundred miles below Hogwarts, in a side chamber of a series of labyrinthian tunnels, behind a series of magically locked doors that you can only get to through a _girl's_ bathroom… and you want to be _more_ selective?"

"I believe I just established that." He waved a marble hand yet again, then said with a note of disappointment. "Your argument is getting weaker as time goes on. Has all of Rowena's brood fallen to such low standards, or are you an unfortunate exception?"

The small Ravenclaw opened her mouth to answer but was cut off when a wave of water slammed into the room, knocking her off her feet. She lost all sense of direction as the water spun her around, bumping her against the floor up to the air and back again until she got pinned to one of the walls.

Coughing and spluttering, her eyes streaming and her nostrils filled with the rank smell of the water Zoey used the solid structure to pull herself up and back to her feet. She braced against her hands and gasped in air like never before, immensely grateful for something she'd once taken for granted.

"Thou lost something." The statue said dryly and tossed Rasputin's bedraggled form at her, ignoring the murtlap's attempts to claw and spike him.

The jerk was enjoying this, Zoey thought as she listened to the smug tone of his voice while she picked up Rasputin.

Wait a second… he was _enjoying_ this…

When losing a debate, sometimes, it was time to go out of the box. And Zoethia Malam lived outside the box.

"I wouldn't be a good student." Zoey said with a smile, ignoring the water that had reached her chest. "In fact, I'd be a terrible one."

Silently she thanked Scorpius for their many tutoring sessions- if she hadn't spent such a long time with the stone-faced Pureblood, she never would have recognized the surprise on Salazar's muted expressions.

If she was going to get out of this, she couldn't treat this like a Ravenclaw Tower debate on theories. She needed to think more like a Slytherin. Like a Malfoy. She needed a winner take all, no holds barred mentality that was hard to refute. Zoey leaned against the wall at her back, trying to embody the casual confidence Scorpius displayed at every turn. She had no idea if it was working.

"I mean, a genius student? I'll bet you've had tons of those. Heh- Merlin, I bet you _were_ one of those. Able to do any spell you lift a wand for. If _I_ was like that I'd only need to read the wall and be done down here. And really, how boring is that for you? Answer-" She yawned theatrically. "-very. You've had diddly squat to keep yourself occupied for the last seventy six years. Do you really want the brief window that I'm here to be that easy, or would you rather a student who needs to interact with you to learn her lessons?"

"Thou believes I would rather be encumbered by an inadequate?"

"Well I mean, it's either that or, you know, me just teaching myself. And really, in that case… you might as well not even be here."

She had a very Slytherin smirk on her features as she watched the statue. Whether Salazar had Slytherin pride or regular pride he still _had_ pride _._ So if Malfoy- an ungraduated student- was bothered by her implying someone else being 'better', then Zoey figured a Founder of Hogwarts and one of the strongest wizards in history would definitely _never_ admit to being unnecessary.

"...fair point. I vouchsafe that- in these _particular_ circumstances- I might be unusually motivated to endure the trials of a poor prodigy."

Just as Zoey was doing a mental victory dance the statue went on "That does not yet prove, however, that I can trust you with the secrets that are found here. Or even the existence of this place."

"You've really got two options then." Zoey help up her fingers. "First: Let me go. Do what you obviously built this place for and teach me, knowing that I know revealing your secret not only suffers _your_ consequences, but cuts off my access to information we both know I want to learn." She paused a moment to let the reasoning of that sink in. "Option Two: Flood the chamber- and risk a dozen masters of magical arts pausing their positions teaching in _your_ school to track down what happened to me. Which, if I may say so, is certainly a lot more uncontrolled unknowns for you than option one."

She finished in a confiding whisper from behind her hand, then straightened. Honestly she thought that would be pretty hard for him to counter.

The speed of the rising water slowed as Salazar Slytherin's statue considered her point, his countenance indecipherable. "All right. Then by your own logic, if I can trust your discretion, I should let you live. If not, then I shall take the risk of an investigation."

"Uh…" Not what she had been hoping for, but better than the mindset he'd been showing so far. "Sure?"

"Then demonstrate."

"Demo…? How am I supposed to _prove_ I can keep a secret?"

"That is not for me to decide." he admonished, the water rising again. Though it had yet to reach his bearded chin Zoey was significantly shorter than the marble statue and was forced to start treading water.

Zoethia Malam had never particularly disliked her short stature before, but as she started to float she wished she'd grown at least a little bit in the last four years. It wasn't that she couldn't swim, it's just that she didn't have enough endurance to do so and debate at the same time. If she couldn't talk, she couldn't convince him. If she couldn't convince him, she was going to-

No. Not freaking out, nope. Not allowed. Not helpful. If only there was something she could hold onto or- her Ravenclaw mind reminded her of the layout of the septagonal room she was floating in. She quickly paddled over to the table and stood atop it, well aware of the panic in her floundering strokes but unable to quite control it. So much for all those swim camps.

Rasputin was clinging to her shoulder so tightly his claws were drawing blood, and his entire frame was shaking. He was terrified. Zoey's panic gave way to anger, and she grit her teeth as she faced the statue and accused. "You're asking for the impossible."

"Nothing is impossible."

"Well fine- _normally,_ a _normal_ person would trust me with a small secret first before building up to a bigger one, but since _you_ completely skipped that step, that's not my fault! You set up this system, you're the one that should work around its flaws!"

"A system being…?"

"As in computer-operating! Program! The set up- organization of a plan!"

The statue scowled at the implication that his 'system' was flawed, and said "Fine. Perhaps, then, display an example for me. A previous secret that you were entrusted with, and how you have kept it."

Zoey's mouth shut with an audible snap, but despite her physical resolve her mind told her just how easy it would be. She had plenty of secrets- the full condition of her mother in the hospital, Jon's magic, her relationship with the Minister of Magic… surely, _surely_ an insidious voice in her mind whispered, any one of them would understand in this case? Wouldn't any of them be okay with her betraying their trust and years of hard work if it meant that she would be safe? It's not like they'd ever find out anyways, this statue _was_ stuck in here…

"I am waiting." Salazar reminded, his entertainment at the situation dwindling.

The words were right on her tongue. The self-condemning words that could free her. Zoey wouldn't tell anyone about Jon's magic- it was too dangerous for him and herself. She owed Rex- Kingsley Shacklebolt- far too much to ever betray him. That only left Zelina Avery. Her own mother- amnesiac in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies for almost ten years now, after being discovered unconscious in the Albanian forest. Whose memory of days or even minutes vanished in a blink of an eye… the first known victim of Affliction Z.

Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies has an entire division devoted to amnesiac wizards. Not because the ailment was so common, but because the patients were so dangerous. Wizards with no memory of how to contain their magic were a threat to themselves and others. But Zelina Avery had no outbursts of uncontrolled magic no matter how emotional she got. Because… she had no magic. That's what Affliction Z was- the complete and total absence of magic in a witch or wizard, always accompanied by amnesia. It was a condition that left even the best of Mungo's healers baffled, unable to explain the phenomenon. Surely, _surely_ that voice whispered, telling Salazar something that impactful would convince him?

Zoey took a breath and steeled her resolve as she faced him. "Keep waiting. I'm not telling you anything."

He looked at her for a moment with a strange expression on stone features, then half-chuckled as the water reached his chin. "Giving up so easily?"

"No. I'm just thinking about this more than you are." Forget propriety, this statue was slowly drowning her. She would at least get _one_ insult in. Rasputin hissed agreement with her emotion, his hairless tail lashing. "You don't want me to tell you a secret. What you want is to know your secret is safe with me even under threat of death- if I told you any of my secrets now then you'd know that my secrets _aren't_ safe. What you want is for me to _not_ tell my secrets because then you know that your secrets are safe even when someone is willing to kill me." Zoey spoke in a single rush of air and her voice cracked a bit at the last part, but she hoped she'd gotten the message across.

His face stilled into impassivity for a moment, then his eyes narrowed in obvious anger. "Do not presume to decide what _I_ desire. I have given you the 'solution' you asked for."

Zoey grit her teeth and shook her head again, frustrated with his stubbornness and pride. She got that he was _the_ Slytherin, but she wished he'd listen to a bit of Ravenclaw Logic. This- it wasn't even _logic,_ really, it was common sense! "Well," she copied his tone, "you shouldn't 'presume' that I'll do what you want."

The statue didn't try to sway her a third time, just stared at her silently as the water rose higher, covering his head. And higher, until Zoey wasn't standing on the table anymore. Higher still, when she could hold the floating torch for support. All along fighting the rising temptation to scream something- for help, for mercy- for anything, really.

She closed her eyes when she felt her head hit the ceiling, inches of air left. The torch was extinguished. It was dark. She was alone… She was dead. She was a dead girl living her last moments… _final wishes?_ Zoey asked herself, and grit her teeth. "You know… _you_ are Hogwarts' least liked founder. And now, I see why-"

The water rose in a surge and slammed her to the ceiling, the sudden motion making her lose the what little breath of air she'd been holding. Zoey covered her mouth and held her breath as long as she could, but soon started to see stars. Her mouth gasped open and she was surprised by how _painful_ it felt to breath water, like someone was dropping stones into her chest. Her body coughed instinctively and though the Ravenclaw knew that would only hasten her demise she couldn't control the reflex.

Black spots danced further along her vision and she closed her eyes. Zoey wondered if Rasputin was drowning too. He was a really good swimmer- maybe he would survive getting flushed to the lake. That'd be nice. Jon needed him. Or maybe he was already dead. Maybe it was a good thing she was dying… Jon would kill her if she got Rasputin killed. She didn't wanna die.

She did not want to die.

Just like that, she felt a rise of power surge inside her. Her eyes snapped open again to see the water around her glowing softly, but she focused her gaze on Salazar Slytherin below. The conceited, arrogant, sadistic-

Power tingled along her arm like a wave of static, and following the instinct Zoey extended it toward him. She felt grim satisfaction when a beam of ice erupted from it, freezing the statue solid...er. _Since when can I do that?_ Part of her waterlogged mind wondered, but the other part insisted on urgency. Ice- water- could snap stone with pressure and time. Turning in the water she kicked off the wall, shooting straight for the statue.

Had she been a superhero she might have shouted some cheesy line to match her sudden ability to shoot an ice ray. Then again, had Zoethia Malam been a superhero she might have had the strength for her ill-conceived plan to work. Instead her collision into the block of ice just _hurt,_ bruising her and making her lose the last of her precious air.

Even her adrenaline was drained now, and she felt herself starting to black out. She was vaguely aware of the stone statue reaching out to grab the edge of her robes and wondered if he was going to smack her in anger for what she'd attempted to do.

Instead the water rushed by her in a current stronger than any before, and the stone grip was the only thing that stopped her from being washed away. She was deposited uncaringly atop the table of the draining chamber, where she took a deep breath and started coughing up water.

The Ravenclaw blinked blearily and looked around, watching Peeves ride the current out of the chamber like a waterside.

"Weeeeeeeeeee-!"

"What…?"

"Thou cracked my beard." Salazar's statue accused, looking at the tiny damage she'd managed in her panic.

"…You were killing me." Her throat was scratched and pained, and she couldn't even summon the strength to match his indignant tone. She tried moving her limbs, but they wouldn't budge.

Marble hands stroked down the crack as though it was a misplaced hair. "I was testing your resolve."

Oh. That made sense. It had even been her own suggestion, in a way. The jerk, Zoey accused in her mind, vaguely aware that Rasputin had clambered up the table and was nosing her side. "And the conclusion?"

"Congratulations." Salazar said dryly, his expression stony once more. "You are now the pupil of the 'least liked' Hogwarts Founder."

"...huzzah." Zoey mumbled, equally unenthused for the last second before she passed out.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

On that Sunday morning, the school was quickly draining of students. While most people were naturally inclined for rest on the weekend, a Slytherin-Gryffindor quidditch match was always a sight to behold. Most every House dorm had emptied long ago as their occupants rushed to get to the grounds.

In the Hufflepuff Commons, though, a pair of cousins were a bit behind the crowd.

"Hurry up _,_ Lily! We're gonna miss the opener!" Hugo cried up the stairs, his voice anxious.

"I'm coming!" The youngest Potter called back, stretching the last few inches to grab the suitcase over her bed canopy. Popping open the latches she pulled out her only Gryffindor scarf, snapping it in the air to chase the dust of off it. Though still a scrimmage, this was the first Gryffindor against Slytherin match of the year, and Lily felt obliged to support her family in the competition.

She wasn't the biggest fan of the sport itself, but when her cousins were most of the team and her oldest brother was captain, it became necessary for her to pull out the the only non-Hufflepuff apparel she had. The scarlet and gold clashed against her Hufflepuff black and yellow as she settled it loosely around her neck. It was a bit warm still for scarves.

Lily double checked that she had her family coin in her pocket before she scooped Charles from his bunny cage and descended down the stairs two at a time. She hated leaving her pet cooped up all week long, so she always brought him wherever she could on weekends.

Hugo was waiting at the bottom of the common room, bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation of his favorite sport. He was wearing solid red robes and painted his face gold with crimson battle lines, lifting a flag in each hand as he practiced chanting "Gryffin-dor, Gryffin- _dor_ , Gryff-in-DOR-!"

With his last cry he turned and waved the flags at Lily, obviously wanting her to pick up the chant. Instead they blinked at eachother, then asked each other at the same time:

"Too much?"

"Not enough?"

They blinked again and laughed, and Hugo handed her one of his flags while wiping his face clean.

Lily put Charles down to help with the task while Hugo babbled "I still think I would have been fine- it is _quidditch,_ Lil." Knowing her absent enthusiasm for the sport only made him twice as energetic.

"It's also a scrimmage, Hugo. Where did you even get the red robes?"

"Traded Lorcan my Victor Krum card."

"What?" Lily's voice cracked in surprise. That was his best chocolate frog card! He'd gloated over it all last Christmas!

"It's just a card, and… it sorta felt like Rose could use extra support lately."

Rose was so lucky she had Hugo for a brother, Lily thought to herself and bit her lip, even though all she'd be doing was sitting on the bench he'd gone out of his way to trade a- "Wait- Hugo, wasn't that card really rare?"

"Yup. _Aaand_ I promised Lorcan a James card from when he goes pro."

Lily shook her head and refrained from pointing out that by the time James became a famous professional- _if_ he became a famous professional- he and Lorcan likely will have outgrown their card collecting hobby. "Well then, we'll just have to hope our House will let you sit with us while looking like a Gryffindor."

Hugo just grinned, knowing full well that Hufflepuffs frequently cheered for other Houses in the matches they weren't playing. Their team wasn't as flashy as the other Houses, but traditionally Hufflepuff players were extremely consistent from game to game.

" _There's_ your freckles." Lily joked as she got the last of the thick paint off his face. She barely had time to pick Charles back up before Hugo took her other hand and ran them out of the common room.

"Com'on com'on com'on!" He rushed her while they grabbed some muffins and a carrot to go. "We're late!"

"The beginning's not as important as the end," Lily reminded, but picked up her pace. The Great Hall and walkways were mostly empty as they went- she absently noted that it seemed this scrimmage would have a very high turnout. They only saw a few students on the grounds, clumped together at corners and walls.

"The end's gonna come quick! James told me all about his new training regimen- he's been testing himself against the snitch and doing special exercises. He won't tell me what, but he wagers he's at least doubly good at spotting it now and with his speed…! I'm telling you Lil, James is gonna beat the world record for fastest catch someday and _this could be that day-!"_

He picked up the pace in his excitement, and Lily stopped listening so hard as she paid more attention to her feet on the icy steps. She tried to keep an ear in the conversation, she really did, but she only got so far as to understand that the Gryffindor chasers were learning some kind of genius stunt and that was impressive because it had been developed by some famous player from a pro team some lots of years ago and yada yada ya… she went back to petting Charles. Hugo kept talking about James's new strategy until they made it to the pitch, his eyes sparkling.

"So in conclusion…" Hugo trailed off and waved his now solitary flag at his smaller cousin.

She tapped the end of it with the matching one she held in her hand. "Gryffindor will win?"

"Exactly! Whoot-whoop!" He cheered and raced up the stairs.

"So what's the point in watching when we know the outcome?" Her sighed question had been meant for Charles's ears only, but it turns out her cousin had even bigger ones. Even over the roar of the game start he'd heard and turned to answer.

"Oh that's because of strategy." Hugo boasted, leading her to a pair of seats at the front of the Hufflepuff stands. "See, to play a good game of quidditch-"

"Rupert! Isabelle!" Lily interrupted as she saw who they were sitting next to, desperate for a break from the quidditch-babble.

Their older housemates turned and smiled at them both, making more room for them. The stands weren't quite full, but the front seats were always crammed at a good match. And Gryffindor against Slytherin was always a good match.

"You're talking strategy?" Isabelle asked, leaning forward with interest. "You got the inside scoop of the game?"

"Do I ever! James has this new new training regimen-" Hugo scooted toward her, launching into the same explanation he'd just given Lily.

She leaned back with a sigh, petting Charles and trying to encouraging him to eat his carrot. The poor thing was shaking from the crowd noises, too nervous for breakfast. With Gryffindor house sitting on Hufflepuff's left and Slytherin on their right it probably wouldn't quiet down anytime soon. Lily sighed and gave up, stroking his soft fur to calm him down.

"I don't think it'll be as easy as all that. Slytherin has the best keeper in school." Isabelle shouted to be heard over the aforementioned house, who had hissed and booed when Gryffindor players flew by.

"James isn't gonna let the game drag on long enough for that to matter! Tell her Lil."

"Oh, um, yeah." Lily Potter jolted in a bit of surprise at being suddenly included. "Gryffindor will win."

Hugo beamed and turned back to Isabelle, talking her ear off and gesturing to the Gryffindor players, pointing things out as they passed to one another.

Something- Lily wasn't paying much attention so she really couldn't say what exactly- made the Gryffindor stands roar in approval. The youngest Potter groaned and covered her ears, feeling Charles wiggle around to hide from the sounds inside her robes. Lucky rabbit.

Rupert elbowed her gently, a friendly smile on his face. "Not a fan of quidditch, I take it?"

"Hehe…" she cleared her throat, embarrassed. "Not… really."

"Me neither." The Hufflepuff Prefect admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Gimme a football game any day."

"Football? Isn't that the muggle sport?"

"Yeah!" He smiled, his eyes shining much the same as Hugo's. "It's played on the ground and we kick a ball around- no hands allowed unless you're the keeper- like this one he's got a scorebox to play in- and even then only in a small area of the whole field. It's got eleven players instead of just seven and… and you're not interested at all, are you?"

Lily went for honesty and just shook her head at him, pursing her lips. "Not in the slightest."

"Sorry- keep hoping to find someone here interested football. Everyone back home is…"

Charles turned brown eyes up at his owner accusingly, as if reminding Lily of Rupert's muggle roots and the girl relented "Tell me about football some other time? One sport at a time is about my limit." She looked up at Hugo in his bright red attire, _still_ emphatically talking to Isabelle about something or the other. Seriously, Lily rolled her eyes, how much longer could someone talk about Quidditch? Glancing around at her house, she noted absently that her and Hugo were among the rare few that had worn red. Almost everyone else had donned strict Hufflepuff colors, something slightly unusual for the normally supportive house.

The Ravenclaw stands, on the other hand, had more red and green apparel then normal.

Rupert looked around as well and his eyes narrowed slightly, then he shook his head as though trying to keep his mind on track. "If you don't like Quidditch," he asked her, "what're you doing here?"

"James is captain." She shrugged, considering that fact more than answer enough.

"Ah right. The _eldest_ Potter." There was a note of history in the words, and he looked up at the boy himself. James Sirius Potter was flying high above the pitch, practicing his dives. "You two aren't much alike, are you?"

"I'm a Hufflepuff." Lily muttered, trying to coax Charles to leave the relative safety of her robes.

"And that's… bad?"

"No!" She immediately refuted, then realized that her tone _had_ been a bit guilty. "I love being Hufflepuff."

Rupert nodded, believing her. "But…?"

"I mean..." Lily watched the pitch instead of her House Prefect, her hand fiddling in Charles's fur. "It's just that Mum and Dad were Gryffindors. So are James and Albus, so… nobody expected the Sorting Hat to put me anywhere else."

"Hat didn't put you anywhere. You did." Rupert smiled and bumped her shoulder with his. "You're a great Hufflepuff, Lily. You'll do us all proud."

"Thanks." Lily smiled, then shook her head. "Not that I know how yet…"

"Eh, don't worry about it. You're a Second Year, you got plenty of time to pick a career."

She hugged Charles up to her chest, tucking her chin in his soft fur. "Everyone thinks I'll be a politician, like Aunt Hermione. Or at least some kind of negotiator. I mean, everyone already comes to me with all their problems…"

"I take it that 'everyone' is your many cousins?"

"Yeah." she muttered, her fingers twisting. "I mean I know it sounds kinda small for me to consider them the whole world, but really, with all of them looking for me for some reason or another I don't have time for much else! Between Hugo's adjusting to school and Al's continuing grudge against James and James's ignoring Al's grudge and Rose's breakdowns and now the whole Zoey mess-" She took a much needed inhale. "I'm lucky I don't have problems of my own- I'd never get round to them."

Rupert chuckled sympathetically. "It does sound busy."

"I still don't get why they come to _me_ though. I mean, I'm the youngest- surely they should talk to the older cousins like Fred, or even Dominique!" She pointed out the two members of the family that- while among the older group- had somehow succeeded in attaining social circles separate from the family. The seventh and fifth year Gryffindors somehow managed to never get involved in family drama or quarrels. In fact, Lily realized, she hadn't talked to either of them for a while. Fred would be easy to track down with his Prefect responsibilities, but Dom would be harder to find time with… that girl barely went anywhere solo, and she'd said she wanted to keep her friends and family separate…

Realizing she'd already started thinking of ways to make things convenient for _them,_ Lily had the small epiphany that this was probably the answer to her question. She was very good at seeing things from everyone's perspective and not only did the skill help her give advice, but it helped her make things easier for everybody. Most everyone else in the family, especially the older cousins with O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. approaching, tended to be engrossed in their own problems at any given moment. It was actually the younger cousins like herself who had more time for each other.

"Age has nothing to do with it." Rupert unknowingly echoed her thoughts. "Trust is trust- and for whatever reason, they seem to trust you to help them."

Despite the trouble and stress that fact did and undoubtedly would continue to cause her, Lily found herself smiling as she realized he was right. She was about to say in response something when he raised a hand.

"That being said, you do need your own break from time to time. So if you want support or advice on how to advise- actually, go to Isabelle for the second one, but as your House Prefect don't hesitate to come to me for anything."

Lily did laugh at that, bumping him back. "I know, Mr. Sergeant-slash-House-Den-Mother."

"House what?" He asked, not having heard that before.

"Den mother." she repeated plainly, saying the newest nickname the house had given him. "You're always watching over everyone like a momma badger protecting her den."

"Well- that-" Rupert looked like he _seriously_ wanted to argue the whole 'mother' part, but knew his own nature too well to deny how well it fit him. He gave a heavy sigh of defeat and rubbed the back of his neck again. "Whatever."

Lily giggled again and patted his shoulder sympathetically. "So, since _you_ don't like quidditch, why are _you_ here?" she looked around at the stands again then dropped her voice. "Does it have anything do with our House's sudden lack in Gryffindor support?"

The Prefect's eyes snapped open and looked at her, his previous jovial demeanor gone as the green gaze assessed her for a serious moment. Then he nodded and straightened in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "School tensions are high, Lily. Your cousins just set down a barrel of gunpowder in a roomful of sparks- er, a Kneazle into an owlery." The muggle-born changed his analogy.

"I… I don't think they meant to." Lily mumbled, shame creeping into her voice as she buried her face back into Charles. "I'm sure they had their reasons for it…"

She felt his hand pat her head comfortingly, though his words stayed unforgiving toward her cousins. "I doubt that. Breaking into another House hasn't been done before, Lil, and going after _Zoey_ of all people…"

Lily blinked at the familiarity. "I thought you didn't know Zoey."

"She's joined some DDC practices lately." he waved a palm dismissively, but Lily wasn't fooled. Rupert protected his clubmembers as fiercely as his housemates. "But it's not just what Rose and Lorcan did, Lily. Some of your family-" his eyes flickered to the pitch and back too quick for her to tell if Rupert had been looking at anyone specifically "-use their 'Legacy' status to excess. So now while half the school is disillusioned and disgruntled, the other half is secretly pleased and vindictive about ya'll getting something that has, honestly, been a bit overdue."

"Something like a reality check?" Lily Potter matched his honesty sadly, wishing that it weren't the case. As tough as tough love- and life- was, she knew that it would help some of her family members in the long run. It would help Rose for sure, Lily thought as she remembered their conversation yesterday. That girl was finally ready to turn over a new leaf and change herself.

Then she frowned. "That still doesn't explain why you're _here_."

"It's quidditch. It's no football," Rupert chuckled, "but it's still a great way for the masses to let off steam. I'm just making sure nothing gets out of hand."

"Huh." She hadn't thought of it like that, and glanced back at the Ravenclaw crowd across from them, seeing the split in green and red support. Maybe that's what their students were doing- not really rooting for Slytherin, but more taking advantage to express their frustrations against Gryffindor.

A distinctive head of colored hair was missing from the group, and Lily absently noted all the quidditch players flying to the ground as she asked Rupert. "Have you seen Zoey at all lately? I think she's disappeared again the last few days…"

"I haven't." Rupert agreed, and shook his head slightly. "But can you blame her? After the spectacle she and Rose made in the hall, it's no wonder she wants to avoid limelight."

"True." Lily sighed, looking down. Then she did a double take as she saw Oliver Wood, the flying instructor, walking onto the field with the quidditch chest. Her jaw dropped as he freed the bludgers and tossed the quaffle, which was quickly snatched by a Gryffindor Chaser. "I thought the game had already started?!"

Her loud statement regained the attention of the two quidditch fanatics.

"Those were just warm ups, silly." Hugo laughed at his cousin like she'd made a joke, missing her groan. If this much time had been spent on _warm-ups,_ why had they had to rush down here in the first place?

Even in her apathy toward the game, Lily couldn't help but join the surge of excitement that swept through the stands as Gryffindor scored the first shot.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Nice shot _Ivaan!"_

"Way to go Eddy!"

The Gryffindor reserve bench echoed with cheers for the chaser-beater combo that had made the first point of the game. Rose was one of the first to sit back down, watching the scrimmage resume wearily. Never had she been happy before to be a substitute instead of a player. She wanted this break. Normally she was bored out of her mind when she had to sit reserve through a whole quidditch game, but this time it was a wonderful relief for the focus of the school to be on something other than herself.

Rose leaned back on the bench as she watched from the best vantage point in the pitch, listening to Jordan Lancaster summarize the game.

"Excellent move by the Gryffindor' Beater Eddy there-" the latino Sixth Year was saying in her vast spanish accent, her voice carrying to every spectator with magic. "-perfectly placed bludger! Slytherin Keeper Diane had to let that shot go or else get a rather nasty hit early on in the game- not that that'd be that bad after all…"

The announcer was alone in the faculty box for this scrimmage- even teacher had their own work to attend to, Rose noted wryly, but _they_ were allowed to chose which quidditch games they attended.

"Slytherins in possession- um, Gregor has it right now- wide open pass to Slytherin Chaser Tom on the right- oh, he didn't even look at it! What a missed opportunity- he's gonna regret that because here comes Gryffindor's star Chaser Ivaan, hot on his tail and now Gregor _has_ to pass- straight into an easy steal by fellow Gryffindor Chaser Adam! Well done, man! Keep going, all the way- what! That has to be a foul! Yellow card! Yellow- uuuugh I wish… no, instead the Slytherin Chaser gets off scot free with that DIRTY TACKLE and flies away with the ball, back down the field- yes! Another nicely shot bludger clips the edge of his broom and the Slytherin Chaser _drops_ the quaffle-" she said with a bit of a laugh, her amusement echoed by Gryffindor and naturally booed by Slytherin, while the other two Houses had an indiscernible mix of responses. Jordan started speaking even faster to match the pace of the game. "And it is easily scooped up by Melody- that girl is great on a broom, gotta be glad she's on our team eh Gryffindor?- watch her veer down the pitch- nice barrel roll there to dodge another tackle- wide open shot at any hoop she wants and there is is just no way to block them all- GOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!"

The stands went wild with matching enthusiasm. Rose wasn't entirely sure she liked this particular habit of the Spanish-born commentator, but she stood and cheered all the same. The Lorcan in the Gryffindor stands started their tried and true chant of "go, go, Gryffindor!"

"-and Gryffindor leads twenty to nothing! Dos a zero, ziltch, nada- Gryffindor chasers doing a well deserved victory spin on the field, while the Slytherins get ready for their return- Slytherin Captain and Seeker Odetta Oakinson flying down to have a word with her chasers, I'm sure she's not pleased- play starts- they actually _make_ a pass this time, imagine that- still charging down the field like a herd of buffalo there- about as unnatractive too, but hard to stop- golly, looks like Odetta's actually yelling for her team to make every pass- looks like they need more practice, eh?- but it's working, Slytherin moving smoothly up the field- they're at the hoops- d'oh, Gryffindor Keeper Evan clips the quaffle but couldn't quite catch it, Slytherin score their first goal of the game- it's now twenty to ten. Slytherin fans going wild over it- except their reserves, looks like they all decided to bring _homework_ instead of cheer their teammates- some team spirit there-"

Rose dropped her gaze to the other bench for reserves and blinked as she realized Jordan was right. Every one of their substitute players was holding a quill and parchment and diligently writing away. Scorpius Malfoy had even brought a whole _desk_ and sat a fellow reserve down at it while he himself leaned against a corner and dictated to both a quickquill and his teammate.

A little kernel of envy settled inside her. Rose had often wished she could study or work during the many long quidditch games she'd had to sit through, but she'd never quite managed the courage to do so when the whole school could see her do so instead of support her team. But there was Scorpius Malfoy, still doing whatever he wanted despite the fact that most of Hogwarts reviled him. Even with the recent publication about his Manor, with the obvious dark arts involved there and his family's Death Eater past once again called into question, it wasn't affecting him. He obviously wasn't losing sleep over it. If anything, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy looked to be in a good mood as he tirelessly worked.

On the other hand, it had taken her thirty minutes to convince herself to get out of bed this morning. Rose set her chin in her hand. Maybe she was a little bit too concerned with her image. Maybe. She'd have to ask Lily for an opinion on that.

She glanced at the Hufflepuff section, then did a double take at the sight of Hugo, front and center of the stands wearing a bright red robe and roaring his head off. He was leaning so far forward that he almost fell, and was only saved when another Hufflepuff guy grabbed his collar and yanked him back. Rose could practically hear the laughter as Hugo- undeterred by his almost fall- jumped right back up and resumed cheering! She groaned and put her head in her hands. At least she wasn't _oblivious_ of her image. Thank goodness Lily was keeping an eye on Hugo, otherwise he'd be the laughingstock of the school by now.

Jordan Lancaster was still commentating, the quaffle having done back and forth down the pitch during Rose's internal musings. "And Gryffindor Chasers returns the quaffle, passing it up the field- Slytherin's are in a very poor position to steal- quaffle goes to Melody- Ivaan- back to Melody- swings it out to Ivaan again who shoots for the _far_ hoop- agh, beautiful shot at the hardest post but Slytherin's Keeper catches it- wastes no time kicking it out, Slytherin moving it up the field- JAMES IS DIVING FOR THE SNITCH!"

Rose and a hundred other eyes snapped away from the quaffle. James had so far done nothing but circle the field, scouring the pitch for the game-ending snitch and closely followed by Roxanne, whose sole responsibility was to protect his focus from any kind of distraction, bludger or player. It was a risky strategy to leave Gryffindor's defenders without their star beater, but it seemed to pay off as James fell into an almost vertical drop for the snitch early on in the game.

"Look at that determination- that form! He's going for it, folks- I don't see the snitch yet but- is that intentional!?- looks like Slytherin's Seeker doesn't see the snitch either, she's headed for a collision course instead!-"

Odetta had been hovering by her chasers again, but hearing the announcement she'd veered after the opposing seeker-and-captain, leaning low over her broom to accelerate. She was aimed to cut off his trajectory and vision of the ground coming up below him.

"-and James pulls up out of the dive so they don't crash- cheap move there by Slytherin's Seeker-" The stands were once again split between cheers and jeers at the event on the pitch. "-took complete advantage of James Potter's well known gentleman manner to cut off a perfect dive-"

Rose rolled her eyes and wished, not for the first time, Jordan wouldn't pander to the parts of the audience with an obvious crush on James. Then again, she couldn't deny that it was effective as the Gryffindor girl's behind her gave a high-pitch squeal in approval of Jordan Lancaster's comment.

"-looks like Slytherin's Chaser trio took advantage of the excitement, they got another shot in. Game tied twenty to twenty. Gryffindor takes it down the pitch again…"

The pace of the game slowed down, with the quaffle traveling back and forth down the pitch. Slytherin wasn't able to get past the Gryffindor chasers to get the shot off, but their Keeper was equally effecting at blocking almost every shot Gryffindor made.

Inevitably though the keeper started to tire, and Ivaan scored another hoop to regain the lead 30-20.

"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!"

"Yeah!" the Gryffindor stands cheered, and the reserve chaser beside her turned and yelled "Did you see that feint? Fantastic!" to the group at large.

Rose was about to respond " _of course, I was watching him too"_ , until her comment clicked in her mind and she looked back to Scorpius's position. The Slytherin reserves weren't _watching_ the game, they were _studying it-_ writing her team's every play and move and, Rose was sure, a half dozen other things that Scorpius would relay for his captain to use for the team's full advantage.

The bleacher of emerald reserves had become more to their team then just practice opponents. No _wonder_ Scorpius Malfoy was in a good mood.

A shrill whistle pierced the field and Wood held up his hand. "Cobbing the chaser!" he pointed to the offending Slytherin, then turned the same finger to Adam. "Penalty shot!"

Adam was still scrambling to regain his balance after almost falling off from a hard Slytherin chaser's elbow, but he grinned ear to ear as he flew in position for the easy score.

"About time that got called- seriously, Slytherin's chasers have been playing like there's a bonus for bruising- but now they'll pay for it, as they lose ten points to an easy shot, doubling the lead now at forty to twenty- GOOOOOO- oh! LOOK OUT JAMES!"

Two bludgers were hurdling straight toward James like cannonballs. The Slytherin beaters fist bumped triumphantly. During penalties the only players allowed to take action were defending keeper, the chaser taking the shot and- of course- the seekers. However there were no rules against lining up their shot, and so the Slytherin beaters had waited until exactly after the shot made it through the hoop before slamming both bludgers against the same opponent; James.

With nerves of steel James Sirius Potter glanced at the distraction before resuming his search for the snitch. Rose jumped up with agitation and worry that he was putting too much faith in Roxanne- _anyone_ would have trouble blocking two bludgers at once, someone could get seriously hurt!

The anxiety was catching throughout the stadium when Roxanne Weasley fearlessly dove directly between her cousin and the two bludgers, heedless of the dangerous position she was now flying in. Wielding her bat with ease she smacked the first bludger off and away, careening over the stands. Using the recoil instead of fighting it Roxanne spun upsidedown on her broom to tap the other one, lacking the time to properly line up the blow but successfully diverting the bludger just enough so that it missed James.

The crowd went wild with enthusiasm for the play- even some Slytherins applauded politely at the display of skill- and Roxanne righted herself with a Weasley-wide grin to the stands. She raised the bat in salute, then resumed her defensive position near her seeker-and-captain.

Rose let out the breath she'd been holding, watching Roxanne fly a few more seconds just to make sure that her cousin was definitely okay. The beater was massaging her shoulder again, but otherwise seemed to be all right. Slowly Rose became aware of shouting from the Gryffindor's seats behind her and turned to see her House badmouthing the Slytherins' dangerous tactic, Lorcan at the front of the crowd.

Lorcan Scamander. Her partner in crime, and now fellow prisoner in detention. Rose ran a hand down her face in frustration with the thought. _Detention._ She had _never_ gotten detention. Her _mum_ had never gotten detention- or at least, if she ever had, it must have been Uncle Harry's fault. And now, instead of following her footsteps Rose would be doing muggle polishing in the trophy room. An hour every day until Christmas Break. A whole hour. Every. Day. And the marr on her spotless record wouldn't be the only lasting effect.

Her eyes trailed back to Roxanne as she circled protectively around James, her mind drawn back to their brief locker room conversation before the game. When Rox had first called out to her Rose had tensed, certain that she was going to be badgered or blamed for her slip almost putting James in detention and _actually_ getting Lorcan in detention, but her cousin had surprised her. She pulled her to the back corner of the room and stood like a shield between Rose and everyone else.

"Are you okay?" Rox had whispered in a fierce hushed tone, her eyes looking over her younger cousin as though truly expecting to find something out of place.

"I- I'm fine," Rose had stammered, sensing that Roxanne wasn't asking about her frazzled mental state. "I- what's wrong with you? Are you okay?"

She looked her up down one more time, then her shoulders slumped. "Honestly no. Lorcan got jumped on the way to breakfast this morning."

"He _what-?_ " her shout of surprise had been covered by her cousin's quick hand, and Rose had blushed as she was shushed like a child. She cleared her throat and said again in a quieter tone "What happened? Is he okay?"

"Two students came at him from round a corner, cast a few hexes, then got away. Lor said he didn't see who…" her had voice trialed off as she folded her arms. "But he might have just said that so I wouldn't do something back at them and get suspended from the game."

"He's fine though?"

"Yeah. This time. But you should keep an eye out too- one in front and behind, and all that… Maybe stay close to the rest of us till we get home for Christmas and this blows over."

"Okay. I'll keep careful around Slytherins." Rose had promised, if only to calm her cousin. Seriously, there were people in that House that shouldn't be allowed to stay here in Hogwarts.

"Definitely. But- they might not have been Slytherins."

"Come off it, Rox. Who else _would_ it be? I bet there are a dozen snakes just waiting for chances like that…"

"A Ravenclaw." The older girl had stated far too seriously to be argued with. "Word is their whole House got in a huge debate on who to blame for- well, _our_ break in, and some people were more outraged than others."

"So… they attacked Lorcan not because of Zoey, but just because he stepped into their House?"

" _Broke_ into their house." Roxanne had corrected unrepentantly, and looked Rose square in the eyes as she had challenged "Wouldn't you?"

The answer had been cut off by James's loud call for the team to gather for his usual pre-game pep talk, but both girls knew the answer that was coming.

… _yes._ Rose thought with defeat, resting her chin on her knees. _Yes,_ she would definitely be that upset with anyone who broke into Gryffindor to mess with one of her Housemates.

Once this game was over and things calmed down, Roxanne would probably try to track down whoever'd attacked Lorcan. And then their friends might retaliate. And then Rox and Lorcan and James and probably most of her family would willingly respond to _that…_ Merlin, it was just a never ending spiral, wasn't it?

The quaffle traveling back and forth felt like a metaphor for her wandering thought, when a shrill whistle pierced the air.

"Bumphing!" Wood cried vindictively, that particular foul striking a sore spot for him. Having been a professional Keeper for Puddlemere United, illegal bludgers aimed at his old position were intolerable for him. Didn't matter how close of a call it was- and in this case, it had been a very close call.

Eddy shook his bat at the blown whistle yet didn't protest further. He'd barely been a bit early at sending off his shot before his team chasers entered the scoring area, but early he had been and Wood had caught it. Now not only did it stop their shot from counting but Slytherin would get the points instead.

Their stands were already cheering as a Slytherin chaser lined up the shot. The whole team was spurring the crowd to help rally for a comeback when Jordan's voice echoed:

" _He's at it again! James has seen the snitch!"_

There was a scurry of motion at the Gryffindor hoop as everyone turned in the air, seeing James Potter descend in a crimson blur from far above the pitch. Odetta followed his gaze and spotted commentators pointing to a small walnut-sized glimmer hovering at the ground below their seats. She was the closer Seeker- but James had the momentum and the angle on his approach.

"Move!" She commanded her gathered players out of her path, then she was streaking after him.

Both teams were now left watching their captains in an all out race and weren't sure what to do- it was, after all, rather rare that a snitch be spotted during a penalty. Rose saw Roxanne fingering her club and eyeing a bludger, but she didn't dare hit it. On the other side of the field the Slytherin reserves were yelling something, but the distance and crowd noise made it too hard to hear as Odetta flew ten feet ahead the other seeker… eight feet… five…

"Odetta barely still in the lead- go for it James, almost neck and neck- they both put on a burst of speed- both dive down and Odetta jumps for it but- _YES! HE'S GOT IT! JAMES CAUGHT IT! GRYFFINDOR_ WINS!"

Odetta crashed to the ground, her last ditch effort for speed having cost her the balance and time it would have taken to pull up. When she landed she lay there for a moment, then stood and faced the crowds. Her House bleachers were already emptying, unwilling to watch the Gryffindor celebrations. She followed their example and started walking off the pitch as well, her teammates leaving with her.

Meanwhile James had pulled up triumphantly with the prize, the tiny gold wings glinting in his fist as he ignored his downed opponent to do a victory lap around the field.

"Quickest game of the year folks- I'll have to check the records, James might've broken a few. Final score is one hundred-ninety to twenty. But remember, this was a scrimmage. One of the last ones of the fall. All that's left is Slytherin against Hufflepuff. When we get back after Christmas, that's when the _real_ season begins! 'Till then this is Jordan Lancaster, bidding adios!"

The closing comments were barely discernable as Rose and the other reserves jumped on their broom to join in the revelry, the whole team coalescing around James to the roar of their fans. She hugged Roxanne mid-air and chatted as they landed, all other stresses washed away in the wake of their victory.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Did you see that? Did you see? Doesn't matter how good their Keeper is, just gotta give 'em the old one-two…" Hugo punched his fists in the air like he was in a muggle dueling match, grinning from ear to ear. As psyched as he'd been before the scrimmage he was easily thrice as enthusiastic now. He hadn't stopped raving about Gryffindor's upcoming season since James caught the snitch.

Lily smiled at his enthusiasm, the pair walking back alone. Rupert and Isabelle had stayed at the pitch, wanting to trail the crowd rather than lead it. "I saw."

"And- and I'm _sure_ that was a record! I can't wait to find out- I mean, I know your dad had a quick catch _his_ first year, but James had to've been close…" he grunted when someone bumped into him in the crowd, but resumed talking without so much as a glance toward the culprit.

The conversation- or rather, Hugo's monologue continued all the way up to the castle, where everyone was going to grab a late breakfast.

As they walked through the foyer someone _else_ bumped into Hugo, this time hard enough to knock the gangly First Year over.

"Hey!" Lily called out in his defense, glaring at the Slytherin culprit. "What was that for?"

The older student didn't answer as he walked on, and Lily stuck her tongue out at him before turning back to her cousin.

"Aww man, it ripped!" Hugo complained, looking at the hem of his recently attained red robe.

"We can fix it later," Lily assured even as she helped him slip out of the vibrant outer layer. She frowned at the folded garment before putting it away. Had- had that guy bumped into Hugo just because he was wearing red? How petty!

"Want a hand?" Said a familiar voice, and the two Hufflepuffs looked up to see a familiar Ravenclaw standing over them. Though simply brown-haired at the moment, and looking rather bedraggled with her hair loose knotted and a broomcase in hand, she was easily recognizable to those who knew her.

"Zoey!" they both said in surprise, jumping to their feet and approaching her, both with a dozen questions to ask.

Half a second later though they both jumped back, their hands going over their noses. She almost smelled as bad as the eggs Peeves had dropped in the Great Hall the other day. Lily wouldn't have been surprised if the aroma started visibly coming off the other girl like a cartoon.

Zoethia Malam blushed a bit at their reaction, looking accusingly at the Albanian Murtlap on her shoulder. "Yeah, Rasputin went rolling in something nasty again. Razmanian devil." She poked him in retribution, but he merely preened as though his rank stench was a fine aroma. Lily noted that his shoulder perch had quite a few holes in Zoey's robe, as though the murtlap had been clawing her a bit to hard.

"Um, Zoey, I don't know how to say this, but that _rat_ is not the only one that REEKs like the backside of a blast-ended screwt."

"Hugo! That is incredibly rude!"

"Uh-huh. Take your hand of your nose, Lil, and try saying that again."

The youngest Potter blushed but didn't dare attempt it, instead keeping her nostrils firmly plugged as she looked back to Zoey. "Did someting happen?" her voice got more nasally the more she spoke.

"I- uh- well- kinda?" the Ravenclaw blinked rapidly and took in her surroundings. "I thought I was taking a shortcut to Ravenclaw Tower, but I must have gotten turned around- is this the _ground_ floor?"

Lily just nodded, still trying hard to only breath through her mouth. "I dink you need to go dat way."

"Yeah, looks right to me." The Ravenclaw nodded, turning on the spot.

"Hey- what, you're not gonna tell us where you've been? We were worried! You've been missing since Friday!" Hugo asked, daring to reach forward and grab her hand.

Zoey did a double-take at him, blinking again before she laughed. "Hugo, you're turning green. How about we wait until after I shower and no longer smell nauseating?"

"No." The young Hufflepuff stubbornly refused to step away. "You're gonna avoid us again, like you did when the _Scandal_ about you and Orion was released."

"I- well, yeah, I was that time." the Ravenclaw admitted with a bit of shame, and saw the hurt on both of their expressions. "...I promise I won't do that again though. I'll come to the Great Hall as soon as I'm done, okay?"

"You _really_ will? You promise?"

"Pinky promise." She held up the finger, then giggled at their lack of recognition. She had to explain the muggle oath and walk him through the motion, smiling and repeating the pinky-shake with Lily too before going on her way.

Charles smelled her hand and then reeled away, his long ears drooping.

Silently agreeing with her rabbit Lily cast a quick scourgify on herself and Hugo to purge the smell. "C'mon Hue, let's grab some food."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Roxanne Weasley walked into the Great Hall, freshly showered along with the rest of her team. Because it wasn't a proper meal time the tables were stocked with snack foods and the Faculty table was empty, but her stomach would be satisfied for now. She wasn't surprised to see that there was some lingering tension in the room, as the Slytherin Team had already arrived and had no doubt been stirring malcontent as was their House norm.

To add to the confusion, it seemed that Peeves had targeted Rose yet again, throwing walking sticks down at the girl. Lorcan was standing up with a shield spell and chasing the blue poltergeist away, to the disappointed boos that echoed from the Slytherin half of the hall.

"What's a matter, Rose?" some of them taunted. "Can't defend yourself when everyone can see you?"

"Hit her again, Peeves!"

"Did you run out of eggs? Have a dung bomb-"

At that point Lorcan turned from the poltergeist to the rest of the student body, yelling to the room at large "Mind your own business!" and punctuated his declaration with a fist slammed on Gryffindor table, rattling silverware.

In the surprised silence a dry voice cut evenly "You should have told yourself that on Halloween."

Rox turned with a glare to see Scorpius Malfoy standing next to Rupert, the Hufflepuff Prefect- and Lily and Hugo of all people. Her two cousins shushed the Slytherin fruitlessly.

"Must be nice to be done with your homework." Roxanne retorted. "Lucky that you weren't a starter, otherwise you'd be working on it now."

Malfoy sneered in response but otherwise didn't react to the taunt that would have had him seething just last year.

James sat against the edge of Gryffindor's table and waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Don't worry about him, Rox- he's just a sore loser."

"Oh yes- oh, woe are we. We lost a _scrimmage_ , how terrible. I'll never show my face again." One of the other Slytherin reserves moaned as though physically injured, then grew serious. "Until, of course, we win the Cup." Slytherin's around him gave a hearty cheer of support.

"We beat you by a hundred seventy points." James scoffed, "No one improves that much in one season."

The boy's face reddened and he took a breath to reply when Odetta put a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head to stop his comment. Then she turned to James and said "I'd rather my team than yours, Potter- I haven't seen such unsportsmanship in years."

"Un-?!" James couldn't even repeat the word he was so astonished by the accusation.

"One captain crashes to the ground and the other doesn't even attempt to check on her?" A Ravenclaw chimed in. "That more than meets the definition of the word."

The boy- one of the Dueling Club Members, Rox was pretty sure- was almost immediately admonished by his Head Girl.

Roxanne bristled as the Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws nodded agreement with his words while she made it to the front of the Gryffindor group that had assembled over the course of the shouted argument. "You wanna talk about unsporting, then why don't you admit which two of you snakes attacked Lorcan this morning?" Roxanne crossed her arms. "Two on one is hardly 'sporting' either, is it?"

Lorcan looked at her and exclaimed in a shocked tone "Rox!"

"What are you talking about?" Daniel, the Head Boy, chimed in. "Is this true, Lorcan? Were you attacked?"

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes to land on Roxanne accusingly, but she held her head high. She didn't care if he'd wanted to ignore it, she wasn't going to let anyone get away with attacking him like that.

"It was one spell," Lorcan eventually admitted to the authority figure. "It didn't even hit, and I didn't see who did it anyways."

"Hold on a second." a Slytherin on the other side of the hall stood up.

"Zambini-" Scorpius called in a warning tone, but the other boy was having none of it.

"No I will not calm down! If he didn't see them then why do they say it was a Slytherin? I am sick and tired of being blamed for _everything_ that goes wrong in this school!"

"Well whose fault do you think that is?" James responded, and practically every arguing student pointed to someone else and erupted in an accusation of:

" _YOURS_!"

Peeves, at this point, seemed to decide that this argument was causing more mayhem than he could. So the poltergeist settled back to watch, his jester-bells jingling with glee over the proceedings.

A few Gryffindors spoke up, calling out their rival house. "Slytherin's have had more dark wizards than any other House in the history of Hogwarts!"

"Yeah, when one looks at past correlations it's only logical to draw the conclusions that we do!" A Ravenclaw girl agreed, but Ravenclaws were joining both sides of the argument. Just a couple seats over a few of them were saying:

"If one judges by magnitude of disrespect it is you Gryffindors who have done the most damage to House relations in recent past!"

"As much as you blame Slytherin," another Ravenclaw agreed, "You take _no_ responsibility unto yourself!"

"Sam, Micheal, _all_ of you- sit _down!"_ Emma Wilkes tried to command her housemates back to order from the head of her table.

"See what you've started Malfoy?"

"I believe the credit for this goes to you and yours, Potter." Scorpius gave James a small mocking salute.

"Look- this is a FAMILY matter," Lorcan shouted. "So leave it be!"

"Funny, coming from one of the Legacy twins that isn't _actually_ related to the rest of them-"

Roxanne winced. She wasn't sure who'd said that, but he couldn't have found an easier way to rile the usually laid-back Scamander. The rest of that exchange was drowned out as the other arguments rose in volume, but Lorcan was emphatically waving his hand to punctuate his points, forgetting that he still held his wand from when he'd fought off Peeves. A number of Gryffindors' started drawing their own wands to match him.

As Lorcan shouted, Roxanne's eyes landed on the girl next to the boy he was arguing with- Priscilla. The infamous Slytherin pulled out her wand and casually placed it on the table, and like a ripple her housemates drew theirs as well. A Slytherin Prefect walked to her and timidly whispered something too quiet to make out from across the hall, as was as her response. Then the Prefect straightened and started ordering the younger Slytherins out of the hall, using firm pointing motions to be understood over all of the noise.

When blue-and-bronze blocked her vision Rox realised that Ravenclaw had followed the example, Lysander ushering his smaller housemates out of the room. Her brows drew together in confusion as to what they were doing that for, when the Slytherin she'd previously been talking to pointed at her from across the hall to call her out.

"You Legacies strut around like you own the place!" Zambini cried. "You _can_ do wrong, I assure you."

"Oh, and as a Slytherin you _would_ be the expert on that." Roxanne pointed back at him, and was shocked to find that it wasn't her finger but her wand that was doing the pointing. She hadn't realized she'd drawn it with the others.

"Enough!" Cried a new voice, spoken with authority. Rox glanced to her right and saw Rupert Tring move to physically stand between the many arguments, empty hands held out placatingly. "This is not the time or place for any of this."

"Oh, stay out of this, Hufflepuff." Roxanne snapped. This was between her and that arrogant little snake.

"Yeah," someone behind her agreed. "Leave this to the _real_ Houses."

Rupert wasn't the only Hufflepuff who'd heard that, and a dozen black-and-yellow uniforms turned in her direction as they tried to see who the culprit was. Faces ranged from shock to hurt to outrage as the rarely-spoke but often-thought insult was left hanging in the air. One of them- a short girl with a high braid- challenged " _Try_ saying that again." as she gripped a wand low to the ground.

"Stay out of it." Roxanne repeated, pointing to her next and sharing in Lorcan's frustration of everyone trying to poke their nose in her business.

"Oi, wands away." Rupert warned the girls, but he was still hard to hear over all the noise. His brow furrowed and he slipped a hand into his pocket.

Roxanne's mind processed the next instant slowly when adrenaline kicked in. In her years of tussling with her cousins, skirmishing the Sneakers and as a Gryffindor Beater, she'd learned to trust her instincts in times of crisis. And this was a crisis. Rupert Grint was frowning unhappily as he reached for something. He was the foremost member of the Dueling Club, and he believed that she'd just insulted his House. She had no chance to win in a drawn out fight once he had his wand, her only hope would be to strike first.

Her wand turned slightly to the left and moved with the ease of practice as she cried " _Patrificus totalis!",_ the spell flying true just as Rupert's hand cleared his pocked with a whistle, no doubt meant to cut through all the noise and stop the arguing.

"No-" Roxanne uttered as though that would stop what she'd done, but magic didn't work that way. Her spell hit him solidly and he froze on the spot. Not everyone noticed at first- just the people closest to the pair turned and looked at Rox with their mouths gaping. Then the people by them stopped their arguing to see what had stopped their peers, and they saw as well. In moments everyone had quieted to stare in disbelief between her and Rupert.

Looking at her wand as though it and not her hand were the culprit, Roxanne gulped dryly. _Oops_.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Scorpius was shocked to see the spell hit the Sergeant squarely in the chest, every argument stopping dead at the sight of the Hufflepuff Prefect slowly fall backwards, a whistle falling from between his stiff fingers.

His housemates caught him before he hit the ground. The whole Great Hall was tense. The Gryffindors and Slytherins eyeing each other with venom and wands in hand, the Ravenclaws mostly divided on the issues but the group around Emma clearly united, the Hufflepuffs still reeling from the insult to their house and the attack on their representative and peacemaker.

Isabelle was the first to recover, right hand raising her wand as she turned to Roxanne in a rage "How dare you!"

Roxanne, still surprised by her own action, was slow to respond. James however had no such shock, and sent a stunning spell across the tables toward Isabelle before she could face the new opponent, only to have Nott jump atop the Slytherin dining table and deflect it harmlessly to the ceiling.

There was a still moment in the hall as the onlookers took in what happened. A Gryffindor attacked Hufflepuff, and a Slytherin had defended. A heartbeat passed, and chaos broke loose. As spells flew between the houses, a great melee spread like wildfire. Emma Wilks was the quick to respond to the fight, taking advantage of Nott's exposed and distracted position on the table to send him flying. "Wands down, all of you!" she cried, but her attack toward the Slytherin table coupled with her hexing of Nott sapped the authority from her words.

The Great Hall exploded into a cacophony of spells. The students weren't out to injure one another, but subdual and humiliation were fair game. Petrification and stunning spells were mixed in with hexes and jinxes, wand sparks, and anything else the casters could bring to bare. Roxanne Weasley took a concentrated hail of fire from Hufflepuff DDC members, and an odd combination of spells left her fingernails growing at an alarming rate, her legs tap-dancing uncontrollably, all while she struggled to catch her breath between bouts of laughter. Her collapse spurred James and Lorcan to angry retribution, and the rest of Gryffindor was quickly followed their offensive stance.

Isabelle levered one of the heavy house tables over, creating a defensive barricade between herself and the oncoming Gryffindors. In the void created by Rupert's sudden absence, her housemates and fellow DDC members looked to her and followed her lead. Scorpius knelt next to her, separated from his house because- before all this started- he'd been asking Rupert about this week's club schedule. So he now had a front-row seat to watch grimmly at the tenuous position of the Hufflepuffs.

Scorpius sent a few hexes over the table into the nearest group of Gryffindors. Even in the chaos, he was surprised at his own composure and awareness of the moves around him. His mind collected a complete picture of the layout from fragments in his periphery.

Behind him, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin benches surged against eachother, a fierce fight on that front breaking out. In the opening moments both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had suffered the most strikes. Situated in the middle of the hall their tables lacked the safety of a wall at their back. The Ravenclaws also suffered from a lack of numbers as well; many of the House refused to draw their wands, abandoning the fight to take positions behind the teacher's table or leaving to watch from beyond the Great Hall's doorway.

The Hufflepuffs had a different issue: without Rupert, they had no clear champion to stand against Daniel, James, and the other advancing Gryffindors. Additionally, unlike the Slytherins and Ravenclaws, they had younger students in their midsts and, unlike the Gryffindors, they had no safe wall to shelter them against.

Even in the opening moments dozens of students were petrified or otherwise knocked out of the fight. Each house had a different feel to their energy as well: Gryffindor confident and brazen, advancing with little mind to their defense. Hufflepuff reeling but eager to avenge the insult and injury to their Prefect. Ravenclaw fought divided but with a core group loyal to their Head Girl, and Scorpius's own Housemates were eager for the fight, taking advantage of the chaos to settle old grudges. Noting strengths and attritions, he quickly realized that without some kind of intervention the morale of the Hufflepuffs would be the first to collapse.

Scorpius watched as James and the other legacies worked their way down the line, overpowering younger and weaker sections of the Hufflepuff defense. He saw Emma rallying the Ravenclaws to hold out. He knew the Hufflepuff line only held because of the higher percentage of DDC members in their House. Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were predominantly focused on their Slytherin and Gryffindor opponents, but Scorpius predicted whichever House in the middle fell first would create a huge change in the dynamic of the fight.

After surveying the hall he looked to Isabelle, glad to have someone strong at shieldwork in their defensive position. He had to shout to be heard over the many spells and incantations being thrown about. "Isabelle: we need to hold out until the Ravenclaws buckle. Then we'll only have one front to worry about."

Isabelle deflected a devastating stun from Daniel with difficulty. "Easier said than done! We- Lily, Hugo!" Her attention turned to shield the young Hufflepuffs as they struggled to drag Rupert to safety, spells flying over their crouched heads. "Stay low!" Scorpius sent a hex toward Daniel to keep him preoccupied, the chaos of the situation stilling any worry he may have otherwise felt at attacking Hogwarts' Head Boy.

Isabelle turned back to their conversation once Rupert was pulled to cover. "Malfoy, take a couple of attacking specialists and flank the Ravenclaws. We'll hold out as best we can, be quick." She called a couple DDC members by name from the neighboring table to join Scorpius, before returneing her efforts to the shielding her Housemates.

Scorpius took a precious moment to survey the other battle. The hall had effectively been split into two fights, and each had different focal points. The fight between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had vast fluctuations in skill, in some places second years were spitting _vermillious_ sparks in futile attempts to hold off Seventh Years with N.E.W.T. level spells, and losses were sporadic on both sides. The fight between Ravenclaw and Slytherin was much more condensed, with the skill levels between combatants also much more even. Ravenclaw was still the smaller force, their lack of unity costing them both combatants and will in the fight. The core that remained though was hard and dedicated, and sent potent spells against the Slytherins around them. The group around Emma Wilks pushed forward into the Slytherin line, unaware that she was leaving allies in a poor position.

Scorpius pounced on the opportunity, bringing his Hufflepuff companions to attack and take down a half-dozen Ravenclaws before they had a chance to react. Those who remained turned in shock, and their divided attention allowed the Slytherin's they'd been fighting to launch a blistering attack to decimate the rest of the group.

Scorpius locked forearms with Zambini as they exchanged a fierce grin. Scorpius' Hufflepuff companions joined the Slytherin throng, and the unified force turned their attention the remaining Ravenclaws. Much like the previous group, those away from Emma's core were being disarmed or throwing up their hands in surrender. The fight in the center was tolling on both sides though, Emma and Priscilla encouraging their respective housemates and bolstering their lines.

From behind the Slytherin line Priscilla changed the battle field, levitating a large Slytherin table in the air as a momentary shield, then away to land behind the Faculty table with a deafening crash.

With more room to maneuver, Zambini and Scorpius were caught in a surge that completely surrounded the last Ravenclaws. Scorpius found himself working against a Ravenclaw fifth year, pressing to find a gap in her impressive wandwork. Zambini rushed past him to engage Emma before Scorpius could do anything.

She turned, her pine wand ready as he spat accusingly. "Figures you'd take out Nott like that. You'll notice a _Weasley_ was the one who cast a hex, Nott was only shielding someone!"

She tapped the Head Girl badge on her chest "Stand down Slytherin."

"Make me," Zambini sneered.

Their wands raised. Scorpius was tied down with his own duel, and unable to wear out his opponent fast enough to help the immediately overmatched Zambini. He cursed his friends emotion, hoping vainly that he could last until help arrived. His friend was a combative person by temper but lacking skills in wand or wit.

Emma pressed forward, her agility developed from years of Quidditch reflexes coming to her advantage as she sent N.E.W.T. level spells flying. Eager and brazen as Zambini had been upon entering the fight, his breath quickly grew more labored and his dodges more desperate. He succeeded in diverting Emma's much needed attention from the Slytherin front though, and the Ravenclaw advance halted as their surrounded position began to tell.

Zambini grew desperate under the onslaught, and wildly cast a hex at Emma. She dodged easily, the spell flying harmlessly wide as she disarmed him. " _Expelliarmus!"_

The wand flew high into the air to land in her hand. Pocketing it, she pointed her own wand directly at her challenger's chest. Scorpius groaned as Zambini stubbornly clenched his fists and rushed forward, only to be stunned back and land against an empty Hufflepuff bench.

Emma returned her attention to the fight with a deft straightening of her robe. Seeing Zambini go down, Priscilla stepped forward. Almost subconsciously a gap opened in the middle of the fight, Priscilla and Emma filling the void. The two girls surveyed one-another, and their respective sides paused a moment to take in their champions. Emmaline Wilks, Quidditch Captain, Head Girl, Seventh Year. Priscilla Parkinson, Pureblood, Fifth Year, rumored a dangerous duelist but unconfirmed in front of an audience.

Priscilla smiled coldly, her bearing regal and confident. With the authority of a Pureblood upbringing she locked eyes with the Hogwarts Head Girl and said "Stand down, Ravenclaw."

Emma's eyes narrowed at the mocking parody of her earlier words. "Parkinson," she hissed, "you've been flaunting the rules for years, but I'll see you expelled for this."

The younger girl raised a coy eyebrow. "Actually, I believe it's you who misstepped this time Wilks. Everyone saw you stun the defendant when this whole debacle started. Thanks to you, we will be blameless." She raised her wand in the mocking salute of a proper duel.

Emma blinked in surprise, and eagerly saluted in response. As the girls clashed the fights around them resumed with even greater ferocity. One of the DDC Hufflepuffs joined Scorpius' duel, and together they worked down his opponent. With his fight less taxing, he kept an eye on Emma and Priscilla in case he needed to jump to his Housemate's aid.

Emma's wandwork was excellent. As valued by her House, her spells were technically sound. Priscilla on the other hand made up for any slight technical imperfections with will. A fire of determination and- Scorpius wasn't sure,- maybe loathing lit her eyes. The power of her spells made his hair tingle even from a few paces away. They circled eachother, cloaks flaring. Emma sent another _expelliarmus_ spell flying forward which Priscilla sent screaming into the candlesticks above. The Slytherin champion pressed forward, terrible curses pushing the limits of the Head Girl's shields. Unwilling to give ground, Emma moved forward as well, closing the distance until they were barely a pace away from one another, giving them a fraction of a second to react to each other's spells.

It was a situation unforgiving of errors, and Emma slipped first. She had a moment to look down to watch a petrification spell hit her in the chest, before becoming completely immobilized. Unable to move, her eyes followed Priscilla Parkinson as she stepped in and toppled the Ravenclaw with a calculated tap of her finger. Drawing herself up proudly over her opponent, Priscilla addressed the surrounding combatants "Wands down, Ravenclaw!"

It was an unnecessary demand. Wands had dropped and hands raised in surrender as soon as the Ravenclaws saw Emma fall. Priscilla smirked at the Head Girl, stepping through the defeated Ravenclaws. She walked deliberately past Scorpius and his DDC allies, leading them and her housemates to join the Hufflepuffs behind their defensive tables.

Taking a moment to make sure the fight was out of Ravenclaw, Scorpius turned his attention to the Gryffindors. Since he'd last looked, they had overturned their own house tables, and the two sides were entrenched in a sniping match across the gap. The no-man's-land in between was scattered with stunned and hexed students. In the short time since the fight erupted, Scorpius was shocked at the attrition. A couple hundred students had been engaged in the initial brawl, now well less than half still fought. Scorpius felt a twinge of regret at the toll, seeing a Gryffindor first year laying on his side against a table miserably puking slugs, the melee continuing around him.  
Then he steeled his resolve. There was no stopping the fight now, only ending it quickly. He calmed himself and again surveyed the fight as a whole.

The Slytherins had bolstered the line just in time. The Hufflepuffs alone had been overmatched. Isabelle was holding out against two- no - three Legacies; James Potter, Dominique Weasley, Lorcan Scamander. While she hid her fatigue well, relief shone on her face as Slytherins took cover beside her housemates. She shouted encouragement, and the DDC members holding the Hufflepuff line together fought with renewed determination.

Scorpius took cover behind the nearest table and took part in a furious hail of spells against the Gryffindors. The sudden attack by the comparably fresh Slytherins took the Gryffindor by surprise, and with a wave of her hand Priscilla pressed the advantage. Slytherin students sallied forth into the gap, and the Hufflepuffs quickly followed. Priscilla gracefully stepped over a table, Isabelle moving beside her to engage the Legacies who had besieged her moments before.  
As he watched the fight, Malfoy became captivated by opportunity; James Potter. Him and his allies would be preoccupied, and this chaos was an opportune moment to strike out against his long-time antagonist. In that instant his detached mindset slipped away. Locked onto his target, Scorpius leapt his own table to flank. He gripped his hawthorn wand tightly in anticipation as his mind flashed through his spell repertoire. Scorpius settled on one with a smirk. " _Tarantalle_ -"

A flash of red to his side diverted his attention. He barely had time to look before a disarming spell caught him in the ribs. His wand flying, he saw Albus Potter pointing a wand at him from behind a Gryffindor table. Shocked, he looked at his suddenly empty hand as a voice asked _Are you a magicless twit without it?_ The light of the spell had caught James' attention, and Scorpius had no cover to hide behind as a stunning spell spiraled toward him.

" _Potter._ " he hissed with malice directed at both brothers as the spell caught him in the chest. His limbs lost strength, the candles floating above their heads went dark, and the floor rushed up to meet him.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Albus Severus Potter watched in shock as Scorpius Malfoy took a stunning spell to the chest. The fight slowed, and the events leading up to it flashed before his eyes as the Slytherin fell to the floor. Albus had never been in a magical fight like this before. Growing up in a large family, of course there had been scuffles, but wizarding law being what it was the fights of his youth had been of the muggle variety. This was fast, and he was barely able to keep track of the combatants nearest him in the first few minutes of fierce spellwork. He had tried to keep a low profile as more and more wands had emerged from robe pockets. Hope for peaceful resolution took a terrible blow when someone insulted Hufflepuff house, and were gone when Roxanne petrified their Prefect.

Reeling with shock and outrage, the students in yellow had overturned tables and sent spells flying towards all the Gryffindors in the hall. Albus had been quick to copy the Hufflepuffs, and soon found himself taking cover with a couple second years. He had remained defensive, glad for the sturdy wood as spell after spell scorched his makeshift cover. He had tried his best to occupy the Hufflepuffs sending spells out from the table opposite him, and if James and Lorcan hadn't worked through and knocked a couple of them from the fight Albus was sure he would have been overwhelmed early.

The momentum had steadily shifted in their favor, and just as he was sure the Gryffindors could subdue the Hufflepuffs a wave of Slytherin green had bolstered the ranks. He had watched in silent shock as Priscilla Parkinson and a Hufflepuff girl with a tight braid moved calmly to challenge his cousins and brother.

Albus was in no position to join them, and when a flash of green-lined robes moved out from cover and pointed a wand at James he acted on instinct. Gone was the burning tension between him and his brother, replaced with fierce familial protectiveness as he recalled his father's favorite spell. Albus Potter disarmed the Slytherin, and it wasn't until the student turned that the face registered as Scorpius Malfoy. Out of the corner of his eye, Albus saw his brother stun the disarmed Malfoy, and watched captivated as the boy fell with contempt in his eye and a curse on his lips.

The Slytherin joined the other prone students scattered between the tables. Looking down, Albus suddenly realized the toll the fight had taken. Students with welts and poxes curled over damaged limbs mixed in with the stunned and petrified. A first year was huddled against Albus' own table, retching and adding new occupants to a pile of slugs in front of him.  
Spurred to action, Albus stood to help the young boy when crushing blow sent him reeling back as a terrible weight crashed into his forehead. He fell backward onto a bench against the wall, head in a daze. Stars spotted his vision, spells left blazing trails in their wake.

Albus moved his hand to his forehead - his wand hand, where had his wand gone?- and removed it to see blood on his fingertips. Looking down for his wand, he saw instead a glass pitcher with blood on the rim… Funny that the glass had held up instead of shattering…

He looked across the way to see Melissa Goyle throwing more tableware across the gap. His attention rolling away, he looked to the fights between the tables.

To his right, Daniel was dueling the Slytherin Prefects and seemed to be winning.

To his left, James and Lorcan were circling Priscilla and the Hufflepuff.

Worry worked its way into his stomach. James was in over his head, and the expression on his brother's face made it clear to Albus that he wasn't alone in his opinion. For years, James had warned their family to avoid this Slytherin fifth year at all costs… and now as the four paired up, James was positioned two paces from the girl's wandtip, she and James eyeing one another before their duel began.

The other two engaged almost immediately. The Hufflepuff girl's face was twisted with rage as she lined up against his cousin Lorcan, and Albus felt cold fingers of fear take root in his stomach. This girl had been the center of the Hufflepuff defence for the majority of the fight, and seemed to embody the anger of her House.

Her braid swinging wildly behind her, the girl sent a flurry of ice spells in toward Lorcan. Albus tried to call out in warning, but his tongue was lead and his arm barely responded to his command to move.  
He needn't have worried, Lorcan got a shield up in time to block them all and send a bat-bogey hex flying back. The girl spun away from it, sending another wave of _glacio_ shooting forward even as she dodged.

Lorcan got another shield up- Ablus' eyes grew wide- too early. This flight of spells curved and moved at different speeds than the first uniform volley. Two of them connected with Lorcan's leg, and Albus' cousin was hindered by a frozen limb just moments into their duel.

Hearing James' voice, Albus rolled his attention back to his brother.

James straightened his glasses, the bent pair skewing by design. "Of course you would come straight to me, Parkinson."

"Straight to you?" She scoffed. "This is my fifth duel of the day. You're my cool down after a brief scuffle with a pesky Head Girl, and in my way before I add Head Boy to my winning streak."

James twitched, an action that might have looked to anyone else like a smirk but to Albus, his brother, was the expression of surprise and doubt.

Albus felt nauseous- although his pounding head was contributing to that feeling. Emma Wilks had scored three O's in her O.W.L.S., and an E in Defense Against the Dark Arts. James' scores were nowhere near that good, and he was a year younger than the Head Girl. If Emma really had lost to this Slytherin, James was right about giving her a wide berth. But to back down from Priscilla Parkinson wasn't an option Albus' brother would take with so many onlookers.

Messing his hair with his off hand, James donned a confident grin "More glory to me when I put you and your snake friends down."

Parkinson looked at him with amusement, and raised her wand to her face in challenge.

"Don't do it" Albus begged, and despite the dizzying effort his words were barely a whisper.

James barely raised his wand, the smallest salute possible all he would offer this adversary.

Parkinson's eyes flicked across the Gryffindor's to look behind James. Albus groaned as his brother glanced back to follow her gaze.

Amused that such an obvious ruse had worked, the Slytherin summoned the spectacles from the elder Potter's face. Catching them in the off hand, she folded them with a smirk "I wouldn't want to hit a boy with fake glasses."

James was furious, and immediately went on the attack. Parkinson stood, unmoving as she blocked the irate boy's assault.

Once James had to pause for breath, then the girl took the offensive. Drawing back, she sent waves of fire arcing forward. The flames turned blue, forming two snakes that circled around James and trapped him in a burning cage of coils. The tails reached back to Priscilla's wand, and she fed more heat and energy to the spell with each passing moment.

The strength and control of the spell were shocking, and his brother's panic gave nails to the icy fingertips in Albus' stomach. James quickly worked on a shield, keeping the flames at bay while furiously looking for a counter to the curse.

Albus tried to rise, to come to his brother's aid, to fight alongside his family- no. His head swam as he sat back… looking down the line he hoped that another duelist could come to James' aid.

No such luck. Most of the remaining students were shooting across the gap between the Great Hall dining tables. Daniel was still working down the remaining Slytherin prefect- who was now being helped by the Hufflepuff girl!

Eyes scanning the floor, Albus soon spotted Lorcan prone and covered in frost, ice-stiff fingers inches away from his wand.

Willing his brother to hold out Albus turned back just in time to see James unleash a terrible blizzard spell. The power was shocking, but it lacked any control as it blossomed out in a terrible icy sphere.

The spell took some of the heat out of the snakes, but grew in size and struck out wildly in all directions.

"Yield you fool!" Priscilla hissed as the spell spread, spraying Gryffindor and Slytherin combatants alike with icy shards. She added more heat to her serpents, and steam billowed up as the flames scorched through James' shield. Seeing her housemates struck by icicles, Priscilla abandoned her spell to shield the Slytherin combatants instead.

James ended his blizzard, his confident smile undercut by singed robes and sweat lined face. Seeing a window of opportunity, he sent a stinging curse flying forward. Albus' heart soared as it hit, and the Slytherin girl's neck and shoulder became covered in fierce boils.

But she didn't fall. Parkinson's gaze locked back onto James, and Albus' heart sank. Gone was her amusement, the sporting confidence in her face and movements. Her expression now was focused, her wandwork pointed and without flare.

James immediately backpedaled as the Slytherin girl advanced, and the few spells he got off during the onslaught were wild and off target. Albus' brother quickly gave up on his attempts to counterattack, and soon it was all James could do to keep up his shields.

Priscilla continued to step forward. The Gryffindor's legs caught on the table behind him, and he barely kept his balance. She closed in, her wand hand out wide to keep James' focus preoccupied. With her left, she slashed forward to open a gash in James' forehead with the corner of his own glasses.

Taken by surprise, James wasted a precious moment raising his hand to the cut. Priscilla used that moment cast _expelliarmus_.

James looked at her, speechless. Priscilla saluted him with the spectacles "A scar for you Potter, just what you've always wanted."

Albus saw his brother's face contort with rage, watched an empty fist cock back to punch the Slytherin. Parkinson offered an ironic grin, and stunned the disarmed Potter back over the table.

Albus watched his older brother fall to the floor in slow motion.

The combatants in the area had been stunned into silence by the power of Priscilla and James' spells. No one cast a spell near her as she turned down the aisle to focus on Daniel.

Looking through his remaining housemates, Albus knew Daniel was their final hope to stop Priscilla and the Slytherin/Hufflepuff advance.

The Head Boy had stunned the last Slytherin prefect, and the Hufflepuff girl alone was being buffeted through her shields by cutting wind spells. She fell back, braid coming loose as she struggled to rise.

Priscilla Parkinson glided past her. "You're done here" the Slytherin instructed, tone offering no room for contradiction or compromise.

The Hufflepuff slumped back against the table, glad for the reprieve. She was battered and exhausted as she struggled for breath, but her eyes showed a dogged willingness to resume her fight if the Slytherin Champion fell.

The remaining combatants stilled, only the struck students breaking the silence as the Gryffindor and Slytherin Representatives advanced toward one another.

Both showed signs of combat. The Head Boy's hair was singed. A scorch on his ribs identified the source of the stiffness in his walk.

Albus felt a twinge of pride as he saw the his brother's curse spreading, the welts risen up to Parkinson's jawline and her arm movement hampered at the shoulder.

The Slytherin spoke first "I would like to report the Head Boy and Girl, and a number of high-year Gryffindors, for instigating a massive fight in the Great Hall."

Daniel rolled his eyes "Priscilla Parkinson, turn in your wand and instruct your rabble to do the same."

The exchange was a formality, both clearly tired but eager to come to grips with one another. Their wands rose simultaneously in salute.

Albus felt his breath catch, and the silence revealed that the other spectators had the same feeling of dreaded anticipation.

Their first salvo of spells shot forward. At the same time a dark whirlwind stormed through the entrance of the Great Hall, flying up and landing between the combatants. When the whirlwind cleared, a daemon with glowing green eyes stood between the duelists, arms outstretched to catch the spells in clawed hands. The sharp face cracked open in a sadistic grin, as it easily absorbed the spells into it's palms.

A momentary ceasefire. All the remaining combatants fell back from the devil before them.

Thunder cracked across the sky ceiling of the Great Hall, setting Albus' head pounding anew. Headmistress McGonagall's boomed magically echoed "WANDS DOWN THIS INSTANT! SO HELP ME, ANY STUDENTS SEEN EVEN _THINKING_ OF CASTING A SPELL WILL BE EXPELLED!"

Professors followed in behind her, confiscating wands and looking after the downed students, voices rising in confusion.

The noise was too much for Albus. The throbbing pain swelled, and his vision exploded with stars before giving way to darkness.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Zoethia Malam fingered a charm on her bracelet as she walked back to the Great Hall. That had taken way, _way_ longer than expected but- she smelled her hair contentedly- she no longer reeked, as Hugo had put it, like the backside of a blast-ended screwt.

The thought of her younger friends made her smile falter. What was she going to tell them? Zoey was quite aware of her terrible lying skills, her only successful deception happened by distracting others from the topic at hand. But Hugo and Lily had looked so determined, she had no idea how she was going to manage to hide that she'd found Salazar's Chamber without hurting their trust.

If they were even waiting at all still. She'd spent almost an hour under the showerhead, scrubbing herself and Rasputin spotless of grime. Maybe they'd left the Great Hall already.

As she approached the giant double-doors to the dining hall Zoey was surprised to see it guarded by a pair of house-elves in addition to the usual suits of armor. That was odd- she'd never seen them outside of the kitchens before. She'd thought that was because they didn't like interacting with the general student body. One of them looked up at her approach, a smudge of ink on the tip of his long, beak-like nose. He looked back down to a long roll of parchment and read her name off the list. "Zoethia Malam?"

"That's me." she answered, tilting her head to a side. His face was so close to the words she could see his nose poke against the paper- no doubt getting more ink on it- and she had to bite back her amusement.

"Sign here, miss, to prove that you are only now entering the room. Where have you been?"

She shrugged at the strange request but didn't object, signing with a flourish before handing him back the pen. "I was in Ravenclaw Tower."

He poked his nose back to the parchment as he looked at what she'd written. "Can anyone confirm that?"

"Uh- not... not really?" What was this, a detective show? "I was in the shower."

"Hrm." his eyes flicked to her damp hair for a moment before scribbling on the paper yet again. "Initial here."

She did, and this time Zoey couldn't stop a giggle from escaping when she saw that his nose had already smudged her previous signature. He frowned at her and she quickly hurried into the Great Hall before he could ask the cause of her amusement- she wasn't trying to make fun of him, it was just fun _ny_! She'd laugh at herself if it happened! She barely made two steps into the large room before the full force of the damage hit her and all amusement died.

Every table was overturned and covered in magic burns, tableclothes ruined. Student bodies littered the floor, some of them moaning and groaning over magical boils or partially paralyzed limbs. A table was smashed to pieces on the raised faculty platform, as if to summarize the general chaos in the rest of the room. Windows were cracked, utensils and wands alike littered the ground, forgotten and useless to their downed wielders.

"This- this-" Headmistress McGonagall stood in the center of the hall with her school's Heads of House. "I want the instigators and student authorities in my office in five minutes."

Zoey, realizing that her notoriously stern headmistress was a teeny bit very upset at this moment, made the wide decision to not be in her immediate line of sight.

"Ma'am, they won't all-" Healer Prin glanced down at Roxanne, who'd fallen asleep with exhaustion as soon as he'd released her from the laughing charm, her legs still twitching occasionally. "They won't _all_ be that simple to fix."

Her gaze softened a bit as she looked to at the Weasley's sleeping face. Her voice dropped so it wouldn't carry to most of the students, but Zoey- crawling behind Ravenclaw table to reach the other side of the room- heard her clearly. "I know you know how to do your job, Prin. And I appreciate that some cases are more difficult than others. But I will need to speak with them as soon as possible to stay ahead of the student's responses. I shall speak get the Head Boy's report first- see who started this fiasco. Please get those students and as many of my Prefects to their feet as you can, and send them to my office."

The Healer looked at his patients, then back to his Headmistress. "Give me fifteen minutes."

McGonagall nodded to him, then to Professor Longbottom, then left the Hall.

Zoey reached the Faculty platform and crouched behind their table, still following the instinct to stay out of sight. From the mostly-hidden position she scanned the people on the floor, relieved and disappointed whenever she didn't recognise the people who lay on the ground. Nott and Zambini lay not that far from eachother, but she didn't see Scorpius anywhere nearby. Maybe he hadn't been here either? Or maybe he was among the students still on his feet- that seemed more likely. Zoey couldn't imagine the Malfoy heir getting cursed to puke slugs, or something equally silly.

She started wondering what had happened here. It didn't look as simple as a spell backfiring, or even an experiment gone wrong (THOSE caused quite the mayhem in Ravenclaw Tower every other month). There was one obvious answer, but Zoey kept thinking of alternatives in the back of her mind as she continued looking for people she knew.

Lily and Hugo were standing to together, talking to Rupert before he was called away to the Headmistress's office in a group of mixed Houses. It took a moment for her to realize all four of the House Representatives who'd Sorted her were standing together in that clump. With an uncomfortable lurch in her gut Zoey quickly ducked away, as always feeling a mix of fear and indignant anger at the sight of them. They had seen into her mind- a breach of anyone's privacy, to be sure, but they'd seen one of the worst memories she'd had before she'd managed to stop their curiosity.

She held her breath until they passed, then resumed her search in the hall. She still hadn't seen Albus, Rose, Scorpius- _Jon?!_ Zoey did an abrupt double take at the sight of her cousin, horned and clawed with glowing green eyes. He had perched himself in a windowsill and was constantly scanning the hall, students ducking away from his burning gaze. _Had he- no, he couldn't have lost control. Could he? WHAT HAD HAPPENED HERE?!_

Sensing her distress Jon's head snapped down and toward her, their gazes meeting over the heads of a dozen students. He didn't look happy at the sight of her, but still winked a glowing eye at her to calm the main cause of her worry. He gestured for her to stay out of sight and started working his way across the crowded hall, perching on the table she hid behind.

Zoey blinked rapidly, but held her tongue until he'd made it to where she was- not an instant longer. "Are you okay? Is everyone else okay- did something explode in here? Did _you_ explode in here? What is McGonagall getting a 'report' over? What happened to you- you're clawed and glowing and- since when do you grow _horns?_ "

Jonovan Orion chuckled despite himself and patted her head, absently watching her natural brown hair turn a shimmering silver. "Do you like it? I thought it was a nice touch."

"A nice-"

"There was a fight in here. I needed to scare a few trigger-happy teens into backing down. I've sent Auror's fleeing in this shape, after all, so I figured it'd work."

Zoey shushed him instinctively, but luckily- or more likely by Jon's design- nobody else was in hearing distance of their conversation. She sighed in relief and a bit of aggravation. "Jon, that was one _trainee,_ and you'd sent a fireball at his head because he brought you decaf."

"Decaf is insult to coffee." He declared unrepentantly, then he looked over his shoulder with a frown. "But- more of this another time. McGonagall's on a warpath to punish everyone that was involved, and we don't need you serving any more detentions."

"You know I wasn't-" she didn't even finish her thought before the hand he'd left on her head tingled with magic. Zoey shivered as it poured over her like a tub of icy water, the feeling more vivid than she remembered.

Looking at her hands she confirmed what he'd done, seeing through them to the marred floor of the Great Hall. "Um- Jon, why did you unvisible me?"

"You should get out of here- just to be on the safe side." He said in a casual way that sounded like a suggestion but probably wasn't.

"But-" She glanced toward Lily and Hugo and to the rest of the injured students in the hall.

"NOW."

Nope. Not a suggestion. "Fine. But tomorrow we're having coffee- _caffeinated_ coffee- and we'll catch up then."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

This was easily the most uncomfortable Rupert Tring had ever been in Headmistress McGongall's Office, and that was even with the comfort that he was relatively blameless for the fight that had occurred in the Great Hall. The portraits of the previous Headmasters- whom he had always considered wise and caring toward students- were instead wearing demeanors of rebuke that changed with the times. While some, such as Dumbledore, were shaking their heads slightly, others were standing imposingly with arms crossed and one- very far up on the wall in a frame tarnished with age- was tapping a switch in one hand as though he wanted nothing more than to bend Rupert and the other students over a knee.

Pulling his gaze back down to the current Headmaster, Rupert didn't feel much better at the sight of her expression. McGonagall's eyebrows had drawn together as she listened to their accounts of the fight, both how it had started and how it had gone down. The Head Boy and Head Girl had gone first, reporting the escalating tension and insults that had been thrown across the room from Slytherin to Gryffindor and how the other houses had joined in. They admitted to letting the verbal argument get out of hand, but seeing as Roxanne- the instigator- had been hit by no less than four jinxes in the first few seconds, the fight itself had no longer been anything more than a brawl facilitated by petty-minded, overeager parties in Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Their own Gryffindor and Ravenclaw housemates, they assured, had only been assisting to restore order. Emma singled out Priscilla Parkinson for motivating the irate Slytherins, while Daniel testified that Isabelle's DDC position had inspired her housemates to fight as well.

Then the two girls had given their accounts. Priscilla hadn't said much, very plainly outlining the first few moments of the fight, Roxanne's hex, and Isabelle's retaliation. She pointed out that Gryffindor James Potter had cast an offensive spell while Slytherin Thomas Nott just a shield, and yet Head Girl Emmaline Wilkes had attacked Nott strong enough to throw him off the table. At that point her and her housemates, targeted unduly, had felt defending themselves by their own means was necessary.

Isabelle had been far less controlled in her report, fiercely pointing blame at the Head Boy and Girl and placing greater emphasis on their lack of control in the moments leading up to the fight. The way she saw it, Rupert shouldn't have even felt the need to step up as peacemaker in an argument that hadn't even involved his House. And when a Gryffindor had attacked a Prefect, both of them should have been the first to react. She was steadfastly unrepentant about taking the first shot at Roxanne- and even went so far as to admit that she had been one of the many to later hex the Legacy girl into unconsciousness- but it was Head Boy and Girl's poor judgments that had created that opportunity.

Emma and Daniel had glared at her and Rupert silently chided the immature insults Isabelle had thrown in- _Daniel was being just_ stupid _and looked like he agreed with all the_ stu-pid _things Gryffindor was saying about Slytherin_ \- but couldn't really refute her point. He too was disappointed in both them and himself. The fight shouldn't have happened. It was their job- his job- to protect Hogwarts students from things like this.

His own account came next, and it had been almost laughable. "After Roxanne Weasley petrified me I really don't know what happened, ma'am. I heard people shouting around me, heard you arrive, and then Prin healed me." He could have gotten more specific- quoted some of the insults that had been thrown overhead or said that he knew Lily Potter and Hugo Granger-Weasley had pulled him to safety, but such details were not significant at this hearing.

Finally Lysander Scamander was asked for his account. He'd left before the fight started, so while he didn't have any new information to add McGonagall asked him a question.

"Did you feel that a fight was inevitable?"

"Yes." Lysander answered honestly, factual as ever. "The issues themselves were not simple fixes, wands on both sides were being drawn without reproach, and Slytherin had pulled their younger students away. I did not anticipate such a _large_ melee to break out, but felt it prudent to take similar action."

"You could have stayed to help." Emma Wilkes had narrowed her eyes at her fellow Ravenclaw Authoritarian.

"I am not a forceful personality." He pressed a finger on the bridge of his nose, where a set of glasses would have sat, before gesturing to the other student authorities in the room. "I find it unlikely I would have contributed to quelling a confrontation that already had so many others as mitigators. Bringing in a teacher was the most effective action I could take."

Rupert, having worked with the other Ravenclaw, agreed with the logical assessment. He personally wouldn't have been able to leave the rest of his Hufflepuffs, but ultimately Lysander had been the Prefect that ended the fight, even if he'd done it by bringing in a higher authority.

McGonagall nodded as well, leaning back in the chair behind her giant desk. "Thank you Mister Scamander." She paused for a moment, the present students quieting as they waited for her ruling. Rupert was trying to quell his personal nightmare of being removed from Hufflepuff Prefect and Club Presidency, and his fellow Prefects seemed to be sweating under similar visions. Isabelle seemed more nervous for her Sergeant than herself, glancing at him repeatedly in the silence that dragged.

Priscilla alone sat as confident as before, her ankles crossed and hands folded neatly. She caught Rupert's glance in her direction and half-smirked, half-smiled back with confidence. She had no school position, official or otherwise, that could be stripped away.

McGonagall stood up from the desk and made her way over to the edge of the room, her eyes looking up at the many portraits of her predecessors. "I have made my decision." She began in the calm, crisp, controlled tone she used whenever her mind was made up. "First, all Hogsmeade trips are hereby canceled. Instead, all students that were in the Great Hall will aid in cleaning the mess created every weekend… until the House Elves deem it restored to it's original splendor."

"That'll take forever…" Daniel sighed, then warned "There'll be a lot of complaints, Headmistress."

"Furthermore," MgGonagall continued. "The other professors and myself shall be identifying the spells used by all students. As this shall take quite some time- and we _will_ be taking our time- all student wands will be confiscated until further notice."

The office was silent for a moment, until they all shouted "What!"

"Miss- you really mean everyone?" Rupert asked, surprised. He'd expected those in the Great Hall to be unarmed for a few days, but for all wands to be suspended indefinitely? He couldn't imagine a Hogwarts without wands.

This time McGonagall addressed their concerns. "Indeed, Mister Tring."

Her confidence resettled his respect for the woman. She knew what she was doing.

"So-" Isabelle made a connection. "So we'll all be cleaning the Great Hall Muggle-ly?"

"I would have considered that to be obvious."

They all groaned in unison again. Forget forever, Rupert internally grimaced, it would never get done. He started planning the best way to present this to his House- he could already anticipate those who would have extreme distaste for the idea.

Ever the Ravenclaw, Emma Wilkes asked "But- but what about classes? How are we supposed to practice? Midterms are coming soon!"

"I shall work out those details Miss Wilkes. Rest assured, your studies will not suffer."

"What about Christmas break?" Priscilla asked, her shock gone and replaced by a building anger.

"Come break, all wands shall be owled to each of your parents or guardian." McGonagall turned away from Priscilla's paling face to address the group as a whole again. "Make no mistake- this is a far lighter sentence than I'd like. Never, _never_ in the history of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has such an uncouth, undignified brawl- in the Great Hall- firing spells at one another-"

"Actually it was quite common in my day!" The pink-faced Headmaster screeched from his portrait. "Had expulsions every week! Get rid of the brats, Minerva, and be done with them!"

Rupert had never liked that portrait.

"Such disproportionate action is not how things are done anymore," Severus Snape drawled, his baritone annoyance a stark contrast to the other portrait's high pitch. "I suggest you keep such obsolete suggestions to yourself."

A few other retired portraits started to chime in with their opinions, but McGonagall quickly silenced them.

"As my chosen hands and ears in the student body," McGonagall looked to the many Prefect and Head Badges glimmering in her office. "I suggest you all use this opportunity to settle any lingering unrest without magic. You shall be the example. The models of reconciliation. Ever since our Founders retired, certain Hogwarts Houses have never completely gotten along. This is quite the opportunity; be the first generation of students to truly respect the other Houses."

Someone scoffed doubtfully under their breath and they all glanced at eachother, finding such a scenario highly unlikely.

"It should not take a _War_ to unite Hogwarts. When the Houses stand together, they are unstoppable…" her gaze grew distant, and Rupert wondered if she was remembering the Battle of Hogwarts. Her expression was caught between a wistful sadness and slightly lost, her wrinkles more apparent and the corners of her eyes softer. McGonagall stayed lost in those memories until Dumbledore's portrait cleared his throat, and she snapped her gaze back to the students. She walked back to her desk and sat with her usual air of indisputable authority. "Now- all of you- to the Great Hall. You and the students well enough to make the trip shall be escorted back to your dorms by Professors. A school notice of my decision will be posted in your Commons by the end of the night- and should I find that any student refused to relinquish their wands, they shall answer to me personally."

"And you will say?" Priscilla challenged, her fingers twitching to take back the wand she'd already turned in.

"Refusal to listen to the Headmistress? _Ex_ pulsion!" the pink faced Headmaster screeched again, but this time he was not corrected. Even Snape nodded once.

With that word echoing in their heads they all left.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Melissa Goyle was almost shaking in her shoes as she made it back to her common room. The students healthy enough to make the return trip to their dorms had been ferried back under the tight supervision of their Head of House.

She shivered again. Allison Sybble had dropped her nice-woman facade the whole walk, unleashing the full force of her anger. She said she'd never been so disappointed in her House- their display of such brutish actions would be further punished, she assured, and dismissed Melissa before turning to ferry the next Slytherin that had partaken in the fight.

This week's class with Sybble was going to be brutal, Melissa predicted with a third tremor. She said the password and passed from the dingy dungeon into the comfort of her dorm, seeing the common room filled with the first and second years that had been removed from the Great Hall before the fight even started.

A half-dozen house elves were there collecting wands, supported by a proclamation from McGonagall herself that had been pinned to the notice board. No one dared object.

Melissa sat in a chair at the corner, watching the door for the arrival. Eventually Sybble stopped dropping people off and the last elf apparrated away as their task was completed. It was strange to think she was sitting in a room of wizards without their wands- it was as absurd as if everyone had suddenly decided to not wear their right shoe.

The room remained deathly silent for a few more minutes, until a curious first year asked the group at large. "So- what happened after we left?"

Those six words released a torrent of stories, each more eager than the last as the older students recounted the magical battle royale to the younger Slytherins who'd been ushered away before the fight had begun. No matter who told their story, no matter how much or little they'd done or seen, the tone was the same: They'd won. Slytherin had won.

What started as whispered reports soon turned to prideful bragging. Someone broke out a case of butterbeer, the creamy beverage finding it's way into the hands of everyone present. The group shared tales, and successes both small and large were toasted.

Slytherins did not 'party'. The word barely scraped into the realm of their vocabulary, more often as a snide remark at the whimsy of the other Houses. 'Throwing' a party instead of hosting one was a most childish way to express glee. And as any Slytherin would quickly attest, their House was _not_ childish. Still, it had certainly turned into some sort of celebration.

Most of the people in the room either hadn't done much or hadn't been there at all, so everyone told the story a little differently, but some key facts held true: Gryffindor Legacies had attacked Hufflepuff first, then struck down their own Nott. Slytherin then retaliated. Hufflepuff had helped them. Priscilla Parkinson and Marcellous Zambini had spearheaded most of the fight.

The unusual jaunty atmosphere in the Slytherin Dungeon only grew, everyone's excitement increasing exponentially at the revelry in each other. Someone release streamers from a _Wheezes_ product with a bang, to the general amusement of the room. They kept advancing to higher and higher volumes when the door started to open yet again.

Everyone froze guiltily for half a second. Another house might had tried hiding the party supplies from what might potentially be their Head of House coming back to chastise them further as promised, but not only did the Slytherins know such a hasty attempt would be useless against Sybble, they knew it would only dig their graves deeper. Plus, the prideful house did not have the tendency to deny any action they deemed worthy of following through in the first place.

It wasn't Allison Sybble who stood in the doorway, but that didn't ease the tension. Slytherin's stiffened in their chairs as Priscilla Parkinson raised a thin eyebrow. Her perpetual icy gaze took in the mess of colorful streamers and spilled, slightly-alcoholic butterbeer stains on the green carpet before she walked down the dais of the doorway. "Carry on."

Her motion revealed other freshly-healed Slytherins behind her. An incredulous second passed, but no other invitation was necessary before the crowd surged with demands to hear exactly everything that had happened. While Priscilla slipped silently into her dorm, Zambini and their prefects were being hailed for their accounts of what had occurred.

These new people had participated far more than the previous speakers, and their stories were not only more exciting but more condonable.

"To Slytherin!" was cried out every few minutes, or sometimes the name of someone specific. Pretty soon it didn't matter as much what was said, the group at large would still repeat the words, raise their glass of water or butterbeer, and chug.

Marcellous Zambini scanned the room as someone put a cup in his hand. It wasn't until his gaze met hers and he smiled widely that Melissa realized he'd been looking her for, and felt herself blush.

He worked his way across the room and sat in the couch next to her chair, lifting his cup in her direction before people clamored for his attention. Zambini readily told his tale of fighting off the Ravenclaws alongside Priscilla, but gave the previously unheard account of how Scorpius Malfoy's timely arrival with a few Hufflepuffs had lent crucial aid.

It was when the focus moved on a bit that he whispered to her about Malfoy and Nott's condition. Emma Wilkes's opening strike had flown Nott into the wall, Zambini reminded, and it seemed he'd hit his head rather badly. He hadn't woken up yet. Malfoy, exhausted anyways from his several high-caliber duels, had volunteered to stay with him.

"Is he going to be all right?" Melissa asked nervously.

"He'll be fine- Prin just wanted to keep an eye on him. Nott and a bunch of others are spending the night in the Hall to heal. Which reminds me- Breakfast is cancelled tomorrow!"

His last words were and met with resounding groans, but even that wasn't enough to dampen the mood.

"Don't worry," he confided. "Biscuits should be brought straight to the commons. We won't starve."

There was another cheer, and he turned back to Melissa, starting his third cup of butterbeer. Someone started to play _Weird Sisters_ music over the radio as people were asked to tell the same story again and again.

Zambini had just finished his third rendition of his duel against the Head Girl- which had somehow started to involve a lot more fireballs and last second, 'heroic' saves than Melissa recalled- when he suddenly remembered "And this girl-" he called over the roar of the music, standing and waving his cup all over the place to get more attention "This girl- do ya'll know what she did?"

Melissa immediately tried to duck down- she hadn't liked crowds even before they started lynching her as a squib, but there wasn't enough time to get under the table before a half-dozen eyes turned to her.

"She knocked out a Legacy! And not just a Legacy- a Potter! With a _goblet_!"

"No way…" someone refuted, to which Zambini just puffed his chest even further.

"She did too! Tell em, Mel."

"Actually, it was a pitcher…" she mumbled barely over a whisper, looking at the ground like it held an important secret.

"That was you?" someone piped in, having seen the projectile but not it's launcher. "That was bloody brilliant!"

"It was hilarious, that's what it was." Zambini laughed, and everyone in the near vicinity joined in, a few cheers and whoops adding to the mix of celebration. He grabbed her hand and said "This girl is amazing!"

"To Melissa Goyle!" One of the onlookers cheered, shooting more streamers in the air.

"Goblet Goyle!" someone cried, which drew chuckles and and raised glasses. A few first years fell over with giggles, drunk on the happy atmosphere.

Zambini sat back down in the couch and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Apparently having forgotten he was still holding her hand he added "I meant that you know."

"Um…"

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You would have had as much if not more of an excuse to duck out of there than anyone, but you stuck through it. That's amazing."

"It- I wasn't about to run away."

"Exactly." his hand on hers squeezed, then he realised what he'd done and let go with an embarrassed start.

The party noises seemed to have disappeared as they two sat in an awkward silent for a moment. Then Zambini looked at his cup of butterbeer and swung it back to drink it all in one go, slamming it on the table. He still swallowed before saying in a slightly shakier voice than normal. "Hey- next time the group all goes to Hogsmeade together… wanna go with just the two of us instead?"

Her blush was back and butterflies danced in her stomach as she knew he was asking her on a proper date. "I'd like that." she answered, reaching for his hand again.

Zambini started in surprise a second time, then broke into a happy grin as they held hands tightly over the arms of their respective chairs. Melissa was sure her face mirrored his as she moved her seat closer and they talked into the wee hours of the morning while their House celebration moved on without them.

* * *

 _This chapter had everything. Quidditch, a fight to the death(or maybe 'a fight to_ not _die')_ , _an_ actual _fight, the Headmaster's office (I love writing in all the portraits), and a little bit of romance to top it off. I never put a Romance tag on here because that's not the main focus of the story, as I hope you've guessed. I consider romance the spicing on the 'meal' of a story- it's good, but without the main course salt and sugar don't really do much beside give you cavities._

 _As always, thanks for reading! drop me a review before you go! This was the first big fight scene I've ever written- I wanna know what you thought of the flow and the character's combat styles! Pretty please? 0.0_


	29. Ch 29 House Divided

**Ch 29- House Divided**

* * *

The weekend had seemed to last forever, Lily Luna Potter realized with a groan. It felt like a lifetime had passed since Zoey had confronted Rose about the _Scandals_ article. Since everyone had found out about the Halloween break-in to Ravenclaw Tower. Since her coin had burned and gave the time for this meeting.

So here she was, skipping out on a perfectly good meal to instead sit in the North Tower, which used to be the divination classroom. Her Dad had told her all about the retired bug-eyed teacher of the subject when he'd been at Hogwarts- what was her name again, Twillany?- and how musty her classroom was, so Lily never thought she'd come here voluntarily. But it turned out that James, Roxanne and Lorcan had deemed this place the Legacies' unofficial club room of Hogwarts. The three had cleared out the tea tables and shelves, shaken dust from the rugs and taken down the heavy drapes from the windows all to give the room a much brighter air. The plush armchairs and poufs were the only things from the original divination room that hadn't been thrown out. Instead the collection had been added to. Now the piles of cushions on the floor was so thick that someone could randomly flop to the ground and be well-swaddled in a double layer of pillows. A fireplace kept the otherwise nippy room cozy in the winter chill, and the whole tower was so far out of the beaten paths that other the students barely knew it existed. The Legacy family had been using the retired classroom for all their meetings ever since, because the one thing their coins didn't convey was locations.

She grasped the fake galleon in her hand, looking at the time written on the gold metal. The family meeting was set to start soon. After the fight though, Lily knew it wouldn't be a full meeting. Roxanne was still recovering in the Hospital Wing, and her brother Fred had refused to leave her side. Lily supposed that wasn't the worst thing in the world- Freddie could be a little bit stuffy sometimes, especially since he'd filled in as a Prefect for this year.

The youngest Potter groaned and pressed a pillow to her face. What was taking everybody so bloody long, her and Hugo had been here for ages already! James and Lorcan were even here on time, a world wonder in and of itself.

As though summoned by her desire, the small silver bell chimed. This classroom's equivalent of a doorbell, it meant that someone was outside and wanting in.

Lily rolled on the pouf cushion she was curled on, rapping her knuckles on the floor in a specific pattern. The magical trapdoor opened and a shimmering ladder dropped to the floor below, where she heard a " _Merci_ ," float up. It took a moment for Lily to process this, but once it did she sat bolt upright in surprise, staring as the latest family member arrived. She didn't usually come to these.

Dominique Weasley climbed the silver ladder with far more grace than should have been possible. The Fifth Year's motions were always innately fluid because of the bit of Veela blood she'd inherited from her mother Fleur. She somehow made sitting on the edge of the trapdoor and then turning to her feet appear like a choreographed dance move, catching all attention away from the person who came up behind her. The image of poise was shattered though when Dom's nose wrinkled a bit as she looked around with a mumble, something about "more dust than I remember".

Lily followed the gaze and, while the place wasn't really as dirty as all that, knew Dominique was right. Though the house elves of Hogwarts were very meticulous even they didn't come here often. Normally a quick cleaning _scourgify_ or something would have been cast by now, but… well, nobody had their wand. Her empty fingers twitched at the thought.

Despite her disapproval Dominique entered the tower room anyways, making a beeline for one of the few hard chairs left, by the fireplace. She used a handkerchief to wipe off the seat and perched at the edge so her spine didn't touch the ornate back, looking around the room.

A puff of air announced Albus's presence as he sat next to her, his mouth pulled down in a small frown. He was looking across the room at James, his eyes narrowed.

Lily ran a hand through her red hair, a thrill of worry going through her as she realized this was the first time her brothers had voluntarily sat in the same room since the school year started. Part of her was hopeful that this was a step of progress, especially after Albus defended James from Scorpius's spell, but she somehow doubted it.

"So-" Dominique's voice cut through her thoughts. "Looks like this is everybody."

Everyone looked and took count as well. James and Lorcan were sitting on their usual spot on one of the couches, their arms crossed on opposite sides of the seat. Hugo and Lily were on the other side of the circular room, having taken the two softest spots of the day, and Albus was next to them. Dominique wasn't moving from her spot by the empty fireplace and Lysander was sitting against the windowsill- holding a book, of course. His gaze had flicked up to look at everyone's entrance, but now he was marking his page with an owl feather before shutting it.

It always feels like there are more of us, Lily thought to herself as she looked around at the mere seven of them. Her family had such a large presence in Hogwarts she frequently forgot there were less than a dozen of them still in school. But it still wasn't quite all of them.

"What about Rose?" Lily asked the room at large.

"She was sulking at the bottom of the ladder. Close enough." Dominique waved a hand dismissively, then wrinkled her nose at the dust the action kicked up.

Not sulking, Lily thought, probably worried and embarrassed about what might be awaiting in this meeting.

"She's just nervous." Albus said softly, tapping his coin on the cushion. "She'll be up soon."

Lily glanced at him and nodded gratefully, glad he'd made the correction to the room. He didn't respond, his eyes still trained on James. "So- it seems- we're about ready to start."

The oldest Potter gave a small jolt of surprise at being addressed, then smirked and adjusted his round glasses. "Seems like it."

The tapping increased, small and mute _thump thumps_ in the room offset by the ticking of the clock. Albus narrowed his eyes. "...And?"

"... and what?" James said with a spot of confusion.

"And what did you call this meeting for-" he paused. "Sirius."

Everyone else did a double-take in surprise to hear Albus use his brother's middle name instead of his first. James in particular looked muddled, but Lily wasn't. Since summer James had insisted on calling Albus 'Severus' for whatever reason, so she supposed that turnabout was only fair play.

"I..." James looked around, his brown eyes unusually uncertain. "I- didn't call this meeting."

Albus stopped his fidgeting, surprised. His brother always called the meetings. Though any of their coins could be used to reach out to the group, there wasn't usually much need to get everyone together in this secret manner unless it was for one of James's many escapades against Slytherin, more often Malfoy specifically. Otherwise everyone else was fine just openly talking about their daily problems over lunches or dinners.

Lily was equally confused, looking around the room. "Then who...?"

"I did." Six pairs of eyes snapped over to the window, where Lysander Scamander sat with his hands laced over his lap, facing the room. "I called this meeting."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Urm- what?" Lorcan Scamander said to the dead silence in the room, looking at his twin as though he'd just announced an undying love for dementors. "I'm sorry, but- what? _You?_ "

James jerked on the other end of couch. "You _also_ thought it was me?"

"Well- duh! Why else would we have met today instead of yesterday after the scrimmage?"

"Because under normal circumstances," Lysander interjected, "A loss would have meant James taking his team- ergo Roxanne and Rose as well- to practice through the team's mistakes until nightfall. While a victory would have meant excessive celebration, ergo all of you Gryffindors would likely have 'forgotten' to come."

He used finger quotes to show exactly how doubtful the innocence of their spotty memory would have been, and Lily piped up softly "He's got a point."

Lysander's gaze flicked across the room and Lorcan followed the look to see Rose closing the trapdoor, apparently having just worked up the gumption to join them. The Gryffindor girl looked around the room, then sat on the closest cushion with a resigned look.

"Then I ask- ask again," Albus spoke, his coin glinting in his hand. "What did you want to meet about?"

Lorcan had an idea what. Merlin, everyone did. It was more a matter of how to actually bring it up-

"I wanted to discuss your break-in to my House. Using my face. It was inexcusable." Lysander listed bluntly, and Lorcan felt a surge of equal parts affection and irritation. His was twin was so horrible at social interactions- give him a presentation or an intellectual debate and he was as smooth a talker as a veela's charm, but put him in front of actual people and the rapier finesse of his words became a rusted club. Clubs still hurt though. Different kind of hurt, but definitely still hurt.

He winced at the accusation, noting Rose doing the same on the other side of the room. James was behind him so Lorcan couldn't see it but could only imagine his best friend had reacted the same.

"It's my face too," he said sheepishly, squirming, knowing that even the old joke wouldn't do much.

"And you have no right to use it like that." Lysander's gaze cut to the other culprits. "Any of you."

Rose looked like she was trying to merge with her chair.

"You say that like this is the first time." James sighed, looking almost amused by Lysander's outburst. "You know it's not."

"It is, however, the last." the words were practically a snarl as he tapped one of the blue badges on his chest. His Ravenclaw Prefect badge. Lorcan felt a chill.

He hadn't meant to cause any kind of rift between himself and his twin. Truly. "Why didn't you say something, then?"

"This is me saying something." Lysander put a finger to the brow of his nose. "In an environment in which I know you will all listen to me, and in which you know I am saying this as your friend and family. I am _through_ turning a blind eye to you. Any of you. Once we leave that door, I will report any and every wrongdoing I find you guilty of."

"You're not serious-"

"What part of me is screaming 'joking' at this moment, James?" The Ravenclaw held out his hands in invitation of scrutiny, his eyes glittering with the rare emotion in him. "What makes you think this is anything but a serious situation?"

Staring at his doppleganger, Lorcan knew it was true. He knew his twin like the back of his hand, knew all the little tells. Saw that Lysander was biting the inside of his cheek, as he always did when nervous but determined. Saw the crease between his eyebrows that was only present when Lysander was not merely annoyed but truly irate. And, most obviously, Lorcan saw that his twin's book hadn't just been lowered or closed but put completely away. This was his twin with his undivided attention entirely in the present, to say something he thought warranted that much effort.

Oh Merlin he'd really screwed up, hadn't he?

James faltered as well in the face of Lysander's sincerity, his amusement dwindling to a small frown. "All right then. You're pissed- fine. I get it. I'm sorry we got caught, but-"

"That's what you're sorry about?" Lily sat up, frowning at her eldest brother. "James- you three _destroyed_ Zoey."

"Putting it mildly." Hugo mumbled. "She's a mess because of you. Do you have any idea how nice that girl is? Why would you even do that to her?"

"Well…" Lorcan fumbled with his hands. "It wasn't like we _planned_ to. It got a bit out of hand."

He didn't notice the way James shifted guiltily, but Albus certainly did. The emerald eyes lingered, then snapped back to Lorcan since he was the one actually talking at the moment. "What was your plan, then?"

"We were- worried." He rolled his thumbs, not knowing how to explain this.

"For Zoey?"

"No… more… _about_ her." Lorcan kept his eyes on Lysander as he talked, needing his twin to understand why he'd done what he had. "She- that girl- we thought she might have- oooh it sounds so stupid, but we thought she'd enchanted Orion and the other professors."

Lily looked a bit horrified by the statement, asking a drawn out " _Why_?"

"James and I saw her and the Assistant with the Minister of Magic," Rose put in, pulling at a strand of her hair. "On the Marauder's Map."

"Kingsley Shacklebolt?" Hugo asked in surprise, turning to look at her. That was always a problem with these meetings, Lorcan reflected. Twisting to look at everyone always left him with a sore neck the next day.

Rose nodded to confirm her little brother's question. "Yeah. And- and we used a Speye and heard her talking to Orion about him manipulating McGonagall, or something like that. And her magic just… it's so weird. Like she's intentionally making it look terrible. Remember how she transfigured those matches, Hugo? And yet she can't even cast _wingardium leviosa_ …"

Lily nodded a reluctant agreement to the facts. She was in Charms with Zoey and had seen the frustrating fluctuations of the girl's magic herself. "But- I mean, that's just Zoey. She's a little…" the Hufflepuff paused to find a good word for the strikingly unique Ravenclaw, "strange, but she's not dangerous."

"We were worried she might be. So we decided to investigate, just in case." Lorcan glanced at Lysander. "Really, that's all."

After a long moment the Ravenclaw Prefect nodded once, his gaze softening. "You're an idiot, Lorcan. A well-meaning one, but still an idiot."

The tight feeling in his chest released and he leaned back on the chair with a sigh of relief and his signature smile. "I am, aren't I?"

"Does he sound happy to you?" Hugo stage whispered to Lily, who loudly whispered back "He thinks it's a compliment."

Lorcan chucked a pillow without looking and grinned when Lily squeaked as it knocked her over.

"In that case, you found what you looked for. Made an incorrect assumption. And proceeded to ruin Zoey's standing in school." Lysander summarized, back to wielding that rusted club as he leaned back against the window. "Did I miss anything?"

"Making us all look like fools," Dominique piped in without looking up from filing her nails. "And subsequently making us targets in that fight. Don't forget that little fact _cherie_."

"Thank you." He nodded at her as she blew dust off her nails. "That is another thing that won't happen again-"

"Yeah, right, it'd be a _bit_ hard for us to get in a magical fight since McGonagall took our wands." James interjected with a bitter scowl, his and everyone else's right hands twitching emptily at the reminder.

"- _and_ your investigating my Housemate." the Ravenclaw narrowed his gaze and finished as though he hadn't been interrupted. "That fight happened because of your recklessness, I hope you know. And the school retaliated because of your Halloween misadventure."

"Please." Lorcan sighed, calling his twin out on that one. "You know that Gryffindor and Slytherin have had problems long before us."

Lysander wanted to protest, but obviously couldn't. "... fair point. But that doesn't change the fact that you aggravated that rivalry. Divided the Houses even further. And in the process drove Zoey to tears. You _will_ leave her alone from now on."

That protective tone was usually reserved for family. Lorcan tilted his head, surprised by how close his twin had become to the transfer.

He wasn't the only one.

"You make it sound like this is all about her." James said warily, him and the rest of the family watching Lysander's reaction.

"Isn't it?" Lysander asked with a spot of confusion. "I mean, she's the reason you broke into my House in the first place."

"Well of course- but why do _you_ care?" the Gryffindor asked, stressing the other's usual apathy. "Don't tell me you like her."

"Of course I do." Lysander's confusion only grew at question with the obvious answer, and then more when Lorcan groaned, running his hand down his face.

"He means romantically, Ly." he explained to his twin with no small amount of pity and a smile twitching at his lips. "He thinks you like Zoey _romantically_."

"Ah. Well in that case, no. Our relationship is entirely platonic."

Albus let out a small puff of air while Lily and Hugo stifled giggles of their own at the miscommunication.

"I'm not going to stop investigating Malam." James declared, then cut off their overlapping protests with an angry wave of his arm, his voice defensive. "No, I won't! I don't know how this girl got you all wrapped around her finger, but she's suspicious! She petrified Lorcan! She _attacked_ Rose!"

"That was in self defense-" Lily started to say, but James didn't seem to hear her.

"Someone attacked Lorcan too yesterday morning- for all we know she's in on that- And nothing has been said to explain her connection to _T_ _he bloody Minister of Magic_." The eldest Potter reminded them. "I don't care what you say. I'm gonna get to the bottom of this."

"You-"

"Oh shut it Lysander. You won't hear a word of it. What do you care anyways, as long as nobody gets hurt?"

" _Cherie_ , your actions reflect on all of us." Dominique chided, pointing her nail file at him. "Do you know how many people think _I_ was involved in this? Do you realize how many spells were sent _my_ way yesterday, even though I never said a word?"

So _that's_ why she was here for once, Lorcan realized. Dom usually did her best to stay out of their drama with the other Houses, far more interested in the boys _outside_ of her family than the ones in it. But if the drama was affecting her anyways then of course she'd try to put a stop to it.

James looked vicious as he demanded who exactly had targeted her.

Albus, however, looked annoyed. He made a sweeping gesture at his brother. "And that, right there, that is what we were afraid of."

Lorcan looked at Albus sharply, shocked by the harsh tone that was coming from the normally sweet kid. "What do you mean?"

The younger Potter boy was slowly spinning the family coin in his fingers, his other hand resting lightly by his chin. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Sirius, but you have a tendency to make any situation into a school spectacle."

Jaws dropped around the room.

"You- I- that-" James stuttered, obviously not prepared for that tone or comment from his younger brother.

"So you acknowledge it then? Wonderful." Albus nodded as though the incoherent words had been a confession of guilt. "In that case there's a few things I'd like to address myself."

"Al…?" Lily asked, looking at him worriedly.

"First- bollocks." He went on. "Complete and utter bollocks that you didn't mean to ruin Zoey's school life."

Lorcan sat up with a frown. "We most certainly did not, it just-"

"You? No. Him? Definitely." he didn't move as he tilted his head to a side. "Rose? Maybe."

The girl in question whimpered, then shrunk when he turned to face her. "You've never let yourself get drawn into his crazy ideas before. You've even called them- and I quote- 'Deplorable, childish actions that you wouldn't be caught dead participating in'."

"Oi!" James protested the insults.

"Deplorable?" Hugo whispered to Lily, who whispered back "It means shameful."

Her cousin-and-friend nodded thanks at her subtle aid.

"Well… I mean-" Rose flushed and turned her head to the side. "They usually are."

"I mean I am _right_ here."

Albus continued to ignore James. "And what made this one different?"

"Like- like Lorcan said, we were trying to see what her relationship with Assistant Orion was, and- well…" Words failed her.

"Fair." He grumbled reluctantly. "But you never considered asking her outright, did you? You never gave her a chance to tell the truth. Part of you wanted this to hurt her, otherwise you would have been smarter than that."

"I…" Rose scrambled again, but everyone knew he was right. Rose Granger-Weasley was not an idiot, and honestly had no real explanation for why she'd done something so monumentally stupid.

Lorcan expected Albus to retract his accusation, to stutter and apologize for hurting her feelings. Instead he looked almost satisfied.

"And then, instead of going to McGonagall or Uncle Neville or any of the other professors you make those false accusations direct to the students." Albus turned away from Rose, looking at James and Lorcan. "Tell me, whose idea was it to use _Scandals_?"

"...James's." Lorcan admitted, glancing over at his friend.

"Convenient, then, that it just happened to reach every student in the school before the professors ever heard a word of it. Otherwise, it would have been resolved peacefully. And quietly."

"Enough," James snapped, not taking the criticism like Rose had. "You really think I meant all this? Lorcan and Rose got _detention_."

"I dunno." He started spinning the coin again. "I never thought you had it in you to steal someone's wand during Finals, but you proved that wrong."

The older boy's jaw shut with a snap and he glared at Albus from behind his crooked glasses.

"He what!?" Lily screeched, jumping to her feet. "How- when- what!?"

"When was this?" Lysander demanded as well, sitting ramrod straight.

Lorcan groaned and sat back on the couch as the story went around. That was another annoyance with these meetings. It took forever for everyone to catch up with what everyone else knew. He'd already known that James had swapped Scorpius's wand last year- he and Roxanne had been the ones to find the exact _Wheezes_ replica, after all. But seeing how Lysander's eye was twitching, he decided not to volunteer that fact among the many that had to be rehashed.

By the time he tuned back into the conversation Albus and James were standing five feet from eachother in the middle of the room. James was defending himself, saying something about Scorpius Malfoy needing to go down a peg or two. "I don't trust the guy! You _know_ he only associates with Death Eater offspring like himself."

"Who's acting more like a Death Eater now?" Albus said pointedly, folding his arms.

James whirled on his little brother. "Take that back."

"You're persecuting people based on their family. Their blood. Last I checked, that- that was what Voldemort and his cronies valued. Not the good guys. You're so- so desperate to be like Dad. You're making Death Eaters out of children so you can try and be half as important as him."

"Why you little-" With a roar that was truly lion worthy James charged the last five feet between them, tackling Albus to the ground. The two rolled over the uneven cushions in the room, each trying to pin the other as they shouted:

"Take it back-"

"Why? It's true."

"It is not!"

Despite the aggression in their actions neither Potter was actually out to harm the other. Grappling like this was fairly common at home and during holidays- as per unspoken code, neither boy was punching or scratching, instead grabbing and pushing and sometimes sitting on the other. After the two vented for a while one of them would call uncle, the other would win the point, and then they'd both get up and be fine.

Rose and Lily, though, hovered around the tousling boys, even daring so far as to try breaking them up from time to time. Their attempts were completely unsuccessful, James refusing to cease his assault and Albus matching him with determination but not much else. It was obvious who had the upper hand physically.

Verbally though Albus was showing a surprising quick wit and silver bladed tongue. "You wear _fake glasses_ and _dye your hair_ black _._ "

"It's natural!"

"Oh I've seen the products-"

Lorcan snorted in amused surprise.

Finally James succeeded in getting the smaller boy pinned face down to the ground and his arms on the small of his back. Albus squirmed valiantly, kicking at the ground and trying to twist free without dislocating his shoulder but wasn't strong enough to throw his brother.

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. "You won, James, let him go."

Neither boy made a move to stop. In fact, James put a stronger angle on Al's wrist.

"James!"

"Not till he takes it back."

Albus set his jaw in matching stubbornness as his feet kept twisting. "Only if you admit you were wrong to use _Scandals_."

"I-" he glared. "I was not."

There was a moment of silence as the rest of the room looked at James incredulously. Lorcan sat up straighter and narrowed his gaze at the Gryffindor's back. He wasn't serious- was he? Using that article had been what had blown everything out of proportion and set the whole school against itself. Well, that and Zoey's public accusation of Rose, but that might not have happened if the stolen picture hadn't made its way into _Scandals_ first.

"Of course you weren't." Albus drawled, his feet finally landing on one of the pillows in the room. He pinned it between his ankles and pulled it up to hit the back of James's head, unbalancing the bigger boy. Al's wiry thin frame was a boon for once as it gave him just enough room to squirm free of the hold. He immediately braced a foot between them and kicked off to make even more space, enough to get out of James's reach.

"Because you- _you-_ you're never wrong, are you?" he was saying bitterly as he stood, stepping away from James instead of continuing the fight, his eyes narrowed into slits. "James Sirius Potter, the wonder child recreated. And everyone should know it, right? Merlin forbid a single one of James Sirius Potter's accomplishments go uncelebrated. Be sure to brag on every graded essay and test you pass. Sign every Chocolate Frog Card in the school. Better use the _Scandals_ so everyone reads about the big game you won- never mind that it was a _scrimmage_." Albus started brushing the dust off himself. "Oh- _oh_ \- and how dare someone else take that spotlight away from you, yeah? Absolutely horrible of her. Better make sure people hate her instead."

"That's not-" James reigned himself in, finally managing to control his own anger to actually take the time to explain himself. An action singularly difficult for the Gryffindor, Lorcan knew. His friend preferred speaking with actions instead of words.

"Zoethia Malam." James started, saying the girl's name slowly as though tasting the sound as it left his mouth. "Is- okay, yes, I know she's mostly nice. But I stand by what I said. That Ravenclaw girl is a transfer student- the first in what, a hundred years according to Uncle Neville. Which is weird, but makes sense if she has connections to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Which we know she does. And, she'd related to the History Assistant- a position which, might I add, didn't exist before they arrived. Almost as though it was made just for him. Orion is suspicious, the transfer is unexplained- and, and- and how many weird things did our parents ignore? How many things could they have figured out sooner if they'd just taken action instead of waiting for things to unfold?"

"They might have realized Snape was helping them. Could have figured out Crouch Jr. was Moody, maybe stopped the trap at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Could have realized that Lupin and the Mauraders Map and Pettigrew were all connected, found Sirius and properly explained to the Ministry." His voice wavered with rare emotion as he folded his arms. "They could- could have helped Mom before she was dragged into the Chamber of Secrets."

There was a heavy pause in the air. Every one of their parents were undoubtedly traumatized by the events of the Second War, but what had happened to Ginny Potter was certainly one of the worst. Her soul had been used to feed a horcrux, and her mind… not even Harry Potter had been completely taken over by Voldemort the way that she'd been.

"James," Lily said softly. "That- you're holding them to a bit too high a standard. They were just kids."

"And yet Dad had stopped Voldemort three times by the time he was my age." James recited with pride. "I just… I don't want to…"

He gave up and put his forehead in his palm with a sigh. Lorcan recognised that he'd reached the end of his explaining words.

"But- but she's not Moody." Hugo piped up. "She's _Zoey_."

"She's not a threat to us, James." Albus agreed with his younger cousin, his voice less spiteful but still obviously displeased with his older brother. "Zoey's a nice girl. Forgetting the detail that she's already friends with like half of us. Ignoring the fact she not famous for anything other than being herself-" The Fourth Year paused at his own words, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "Or was- was that it? Was it that she got so popular and so well known so easily, without having to put on a set of faux glasses for people to give her a second glance?"

James was practically shaking with anger as they stood across from eachother. "If that's how you feel, then why the bloody hell did you have my back in yesterday's fight?"

Albus crossed his arms too, his own fingers clenched into fists around his thumbs. "Egotistical prat that you are, you're still my brother."

"Is that so? I had _no_ idea." James had hurt buried in his voice. "I am truly blessed, aren't I, to have you at my back. The little brother who can't ride his broom in a straight line, can't get through a sentence without repeating at least one word twice. How lucky am I to have such a _useless_ brother. A little brother that spent the whole semester hiding from me instead of talking like a real man- not a bone of bravery in you, is there? No wonder the Sorting Hat thought you were really meant for-"

A resounding _smack_ rung through the old classroom as Albus punched his brother right in the jaw, an unintentional echo on the same spot that Scorpius Malfoy had struck a year earlier.

This time though James merely staggered back a few steps, his hand going to his cheek in shock more than pain. He wasn't hurt too bad. Though his eyes teared reflexively, he had the build and mass of a quidditch player behind him, while Albus… didn't.

" _Bugger_." His brother swore instead as he cradled his hand, which was swelling rapidly on the spot. Lorcan took one look and knew Albus had broken something with the poor jab.

"Albus-" Hugo rushed to his side to look at the injury, while Lily stood rooted to the spot, torn over which brother she needed to support.

Lysander pinched his nose and mumbled a mantra under his breath. Lorcan leaned toward him to hear an endless chant of " _Still in the room, still in the room…_ " coming from the Ravenclaw's mouth, the boy trying hard to keep his earlier promise not to punish them using his Prefect standing until after this meeting was over.

"Let's get you two to the Healer-" Lily eventually said.

"No." Rose jumped to her feet. "No, one look at the two of them and they'll both be expelled."

"It wouldn't take a genius to see they'd been fighting. _Again_." Dominique added in, still seated by the fireplace. She'd put away the nail file but was now holding the handkerchief over her nose to filter out the dust that had been kicked up by the rolling scuffle. "Something McGonagall specifically said not to do."

"Don't be dramatic." Albus groaned through grit teeth, still glaring at James. " _He'd_ be expelled. I'd only get suspended."

"Bet you'd love that, wouldn't you-"

Lily interrupted the two of them with a sound halfway between a sigh and a scream of frustration, throwing her hands in the air. It went on for almost half a minute before it trailed into a shout and she commanded all of them "SIT."

Everyone tentatively did as told. In moments like this, she had a scarily strong resemblance to her mother.

"Lorcan, get that _Wizard Wheezes_ bruise paste out and use it on James. He didn't break anything. Hugo, stop trying to look at it and Al, stop trying to figure out which bone it is. You boys are only making it worse. Lysander, if this is bothering you so much, wait at the bottom of the ladder and give us detentions then. Dom, if the dust is that bad for you, feel free to join him. Otherwise there's a broom in the corner. Rose get your hair _out_ of your mouth. You spent three years breaking that nervous habit and we are not going through that again. James." Lily snapped his name at the end of her long list of instructions, her attention back to him as she completed the circle around the room.

He jumped a bit in surprise, then hissed when the motion pressed into the healing cream Lorcan was applying. "What?" he grumbled, trying not to move his jaw.

"You- just…" her shoulders slumped with her adrenaline, the small Hufflepuff trying to figure out where she should be looking. It looked like there were simply too many people with problems for her to process how and who to help first.

Lysander took the decision out of her hands. "Look," the Ravenclaw Prefect stated. "Frankly, I don't _care_ what your reasons were. This meeting was to ensure that our actions don't make things worse. Half of Hogwarts looks up to us, and the other half despises us."

Hugo looked up in surprise. "Despises us?"

The echo wasn't answered, Lysander once again on a warpath to finish his agenda. "So we are going to do _nothing_. We are not going to rally our Houses, or seek vengeance on individuals or groups. We are all going to step back from this entire ordeal. I am declaring peace."

"Ly, I don't think it works that-"

"I. Am declaring. Peace." Lysander repeated, and maybe it was his determination, or maybe it was his complete ignorance of how a social group decision should have been made, but the Ravenclaw's words were somehow more powerful than the many outbursts that usually frequented family meetings.

Looking at his twin Lorcan couldn't help a dot of pride as he agreed "Peace it is."

His sentiment was echoed around the room, everyone's relief palpable. This school year had gotten way out of hand and it wasn't even Christmas yet. Dominique breathed her french accented _cherie_ and Lily and Hugo mirrored each other with their emphatic nods. Rose with a barely audible 'of course' and Albus- well, actually, Albus had grown alarmingly pale. Almost green.

"Al?" Lorcan got off the couch, going to the smaller boy. "You okay?"

His green eyes were hazy with pain, obviously not seeing what was in front of him as he cradled his broken hand to his tummy. "Hurts like bloody hell," he murmured, slightly slurred.

There was instantly a fuss as everyone rushed to their feet, hurrying Albus down the ladder and out of the room. It was just a broken bone- nothing a Healer couldn't fix in a jiff- but none of them liked seeing family in pain.

In their haste, they didn't realize that one of them hadn't agreed.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It wasn't often that Scorpius was late. To anything. It was a point of pride or something. Zoey Malam smirked, easily imagining him saying _'A Malfoy is never late- Everyone else is merely early.'_ She then paused with a frown. Wasn't that a quote from- somewhere? Yeah, a muggle movie. One she couldn't remember for the life of her. She used to be really good a quoting movies… she didn't used to divide things into 'muggle' and 'wizard' either…

She shook her head and dropped her hands over her eyes, groaning as the clock ticked loudly in the empty classroom. She had way more things to worry about than where some random line in her head had come from.

Zoethia Malam had struck a bargain with a statue. A living, thinking, but still obviously-not-breathing _magical statue_ that had been festering under Hogwarts for hundreds of years, and had already tried to kill her. Zoey had felt understandably nauseous when she'd woken up- she'd inhaled a lot of water, unfortunately- and the fact that she'd even woken at all had been understandably confusing before she remembered Salazar's little 'test'.

Her eyes had snapped open and she'd tried to jump to her feet, but she'd only managed to roll off the round table.

"... are you alright?"

"Yup, yup-" she groaned, rubbing at her elbow and shoulder. "Just, you know, checking on gravity."

"Isaac Newton's theory, correct?" Salazar Slytherin had asked, and Zoey snapped her head up to him.

"...yeah. Apple from a tree and all that." She had gotten to her feet, glancing anxiously to the door. Most of the water puddles in the room had drained- how long had she been out?

"Oh it's quite open." The statue had assured, looking almost amused by her instinct to flee.

Indeed, it did seem pretty redundant. Salazar had made a flip in personality now that he seemed to trust that her presence wasn't a danger to him. He was still arrogant, of course. Slytherin pride and all that, but it was once more turned to his achievement in keeping his texts protected. And some, detailed, ways of how he had done that. He had mostly told her about the people who hadn't convinced him they were trustworthy… and what had happened to them… so maybe not that much of a personality change as much as talking through another window.

He'd been almost as eager as she to teach her the first of the spells, his marble cheeks tilted very slightly upward in what might have become a smile on living features. Apparently she'd get the pleasure of picking which to learn first.

While the Enchantment of Tongues was tempting, Zoey had instead asked for a more defensive spell. Some sort of shield. Salazar had tilted his chin in amusement, obviously thinking she was hoping to protect herself from him. And while, yes, that was certainly part of her reasoning it wasn't all of it. With the recent bullying emerging at school and joining the DDC and the potential outbursts of Jon's magic and- yeah. She'd like to know she could defend herself. Most importantly, however, Zoey had wanted to compare his version of the spell to one still used in modern lessons. See how 'superior' these texts really were.

They'd gone to one of the other septagonal rooms- her carrying Rasputin and her broomcase, the statue smoothly sliding over marble with barely a sound. Then Rasputin started wriggling in her grip and she'd let him go, watching him scurry off. Jon probably wanted him for something, and she hadn't thought much of it until Salazar commented "Will your familiar return in time for the lesson?"

"Dunno." She had shrugged absentmindedly, distractedly theorizing about why the statue wasn't scratching the floor as he traveled over it. "Raz isn't mine. He's my cousin's. That faculty member I told you about."

"Truly? Shame." He stopped before one of the walls, gesturing to the text and describing the spell before she could ask about the comment. The biggest difference in this spell- as far as Zoey understood- was that it could be adjusted to protect the her from different things. Mundane projectiles being the simplest to defend, to the point that the spell could be cast continually. Then, with more effort, it could defend her from magical assaults- assuming, of course, that her casting was a comparable strength to the opponents. And finally it could defend from the elements themselves. Fires, blizzards, hurricanes, not even a stray breeze would touch her if she didn't permit it. But that, Salazar had assured with a wicked gleam, took years of practice to master. She'd likely only learn after graduating.

In other words, it wouldn't protect her from drowning should she cross him.

Zoey hadn't cared. This was a _very_ different manner of magical protection. The one Scorpius was teaching her was more of a literal shield, a small manifestation of magic meant to stop or deflect a single jab. This sounded more like a magical armor, something that could be donned and maintained without a need for conscious direction.

It sounded perfect. Zoey had eagerly asked one question after another until Salazar- a touch impatient himself- had told her to just try it. He'd wanted to see how well she understood the basic concept before taking her through a more complete lesson.

She'd eagerly opened the silver charm that held her mother's wand, mumbling to herself as she tried to remember his exact description of the enchantment. Then his laugh had broken her concentration before she'd even started to try.

"A wand, Sorceress?" He had scoffed, disappointment echoing in the septagonal room. "You wish to use a _wand_?"

"Something wrong with that?"

"It's like trying to cross an ocean in a station wagon. Useful vehicle. Wrong situation."

Zoey lifted her hands from her eyes, frowning at the ceiling of the tutoring room. "The 'wrong situation'. What does that even mean?"

Nothing answered, of course.

Her eyes flickered to her silver bracelet, to it's empty link. The Ravenclaw Common Room had been literally divided after the Great Brawl last night. (Zoey had no clue what other people were calling it, so that's the name she was using). Students were on opposite the center fire when she arrived back at the tower, glaring at each other and silent for once. While 'moody' rarely applied to Ravenclaw House as a whole, it was the only word to describe the general tension.

Zoey had blinked in surprise and wondered if she maybe should have stayed invisible, instead of wandering Hogwarts until Jon's spell had worn off. Slipping her shoes off by the entrance, she'd felt everyone looking at her from both sides of the room as she walked to her usual chair.

"Uh…" she had looked around the silent room, then made the rare decision to not comment, instead perching silently on the arm of an empty sofa. She sat on one stocking-clad leg and let the other one swing freely, using her toetips to trace patterns on the plush carpet. Zoey felt herself buzzing with anticipation that something was about to happen, a feeling that tightened and snapped with the arrival of a dozen elves in the middle of Ravenclaw Tower.

The sharp _cracks_ of their apparitions had made the whole room jump, turning to see their magical arrival. A number of house-elves were nervously wringing the ends of their togas together, only a few standing straight under the sudden attention. As one of them scuttled to pin something to the notice board- sadly there wasn't much of a better way to describe the way the nervous elf seemed to melt and slide along the ground without meeting a single gaze- Zoey had wondered if she'd been wrong about the house-elves not liking Hogwarts students, and were maybe more afraid of them.

Then Snottgrout had stepped forward with confidence, the caretaker-elf reading a copy of McGonagall's proclamation.

Zoey's mouth had dropped open with shock. While she wasn't particularly dependent on her mother's wand, she appreciated that many of her Housemates were at the very least fond of their own. But with a threat of expulsion hanging over everyone's head, there was hardly a choice for the academic Ravenclaw House. Every wand had been turned in.

She looked down at her wrist, pursing her lips at the empty charm link on her bracelet. She'd turned in the silver case for Zelina's wand as well as the hazel stick itself, not thinking it too bad a loss. Still, it was unbalancing for her to be missing even a single one of the silver tools, even if that particular tool had been all but useless to her. Out of habit she assured herself that her favorites were still there, her green eyes darting to the shrunken dagger, staff, binoculars and shield. Still, the lack of a wand felt strange and she wondered if Salazar would laugh at her again if she mentioned it.

Zoey took a deep breath and then released it, restarting her train of thought. Turned it to the nature of the statue itself. She summoned the image of the marble figure behind closed lids, taking care to recreate every detail of Salazar Slytherin's likeness. At first she assumed that it was similar to the many portraits that donned the hallways of Hogwarts, but that didn't seem right.

A picture was nothing more than a frozen moment of time. A wizard portrait, while more complex, was much the same. Oh the person could talk. Could move. Debate and remember- but they couldn't change.

Portraits could not learn new morals or values. Zoey would know. The Malam had once spent an hour trying to tell the Victorian portrait that she did _not_ need to carry that shade umbrella everywhere. The painted woman was eternally the same image, she couldn't get a new freckle let alone a sunburn. There wasn't even real sunshine either!

Yet, the portrait simply could not toss aside a priority the Victorian woman had held in life. It wasn't possible.

Salazar's statue, on the other hand, had accepted a cultural change like girls wearing pants with surprising grace. Especially considering that he was from a time when the sight of a female ankle was scandalous.

Portraits couldn't learn the concepts of _entirely new theories_ either, like the existence of gravity as a force. Well, Salazar had obviously 'known' about gravity. Gravity had existed before Newton after all it's just that nobody had bothered to give it a name until then. Classic case of not being able to see a forest because of the trees. Probably the least surprising scientific 'discovery' in history.

Jon had made a joke about it once. Clearing his throat and speaking as though addressing a group even though it was just his family at the dinner table. "Guys, get this. I have discovered- wait for it, this'll blow your mind- that things. _fall. down._ " Then he'd mimicked an explosion by his head, complete with a little _kepow_.

Zoey chuckled at the old memory but quickly sobered. Salazar Slytherin's statue broke what little standard of magical rules she'd known. She had no clue _what_ that statue truly was, or how it worked. How could it accept a progression in understanding the very nature of the world, how could it form relationships with the living, how could it grow and build new values based on experiences that occurred after its creation?

The mystery of the statue itself was as alluring as the lessons he offered. So like a moth to a flame, Zoey knew she would inevitably go back down that secret slide. Just, not for a while. Probably. Depends on whether she got bored or needed to avoid people again.

"Probably sooner than later, then." she admitted to the classroom with a sigh, sitting up from where she'd been reclining over the slanted desk.

"What will be sooner?"

Zoethia Malam jumped with a squeak and barely managed not to take another tumble onto a stone floor, turning to see Scorpius looking down at her with one blond eyebrow raised. "I- um, what are you doing here? When did you get here- why didn't you say anything?"

The eyebrow stayed aloft on his forehead as he summarized. "Tutoring."

"We've been here ten minutes," said a voice at his right, and Zoey was surprised to see Melissa Goyle walk around the desk Scorpius was leaning on. "And you looked asleep."

"Sorry, I was- very lost in thought."

"At least you were quiet for once." Melissa grumbled as though that was a phenomenon rare as the alignment of the seven planets. And really, considering how Malam rambled during their herbology extra-credit work, it was a more than fair assessment.

Zoey was undeterred by the statement, instead tilting her head. "Wait- what _are_ you doing here, Melissa? Oh no, did Longbottom change the schedule? Do we have to be at the greenhouses- I am so sorry I completely forgot, I'll be down in two seconds-"

She grabbed her bag and was already rushing to the door when Scorpius grabbed her arm just above the elbow, halting the small Ravenclaw in her tracks. Zoey blinked rapidly at his hand on her arm, then looked up at him with her classic face of confusion. Eyebrows together, a small pout and tilted face and even more rapid blinks.

Scorpius's stormy grey eyes stayed on her for a moment, then he released his grip, apparently satisfied that she wasn't going to run off in the time it took for him to tell her "Melissa is here to join our lesson."

"Oh." Zoey looked between the two of them, confused. She pulled her orange hair back into a ponytail as she asked "Why? I mean, no offense, but I had no idea you'd be here. Do you also need tutoring? But the only class we share is herbology, and even that is just our extra credit. Scorpius doesn't help me much with herbology anyways- I just need to learn an entirely new set of flora is all, not much he can do to teach that. Shouldn't you learn with your peers? Why are you here?"

Melissa rubbed her forehead and sat down heavily. "Trust me, it wasn't my idea."

After a moment the Ravenclaw turned to Scorpius. "Well?"

"You and she share a few fields of magical performance that need improvement." The Malfoy conceded as though pandering her curiosity.

"Such as…?"

Melissa stiffly interrupted "Doesn't matter. All we're going to do is wandless stuff anyways."

Zoey blinked in surprise. She had assumed that today's lesson would be textbook learning. Which made sense after all, because book lessons and wand spells were the only things ever on tests or quizzes and without wands, process of elimination meant that they _should_ spend the next hour of their lives leaning over a textbook or two.

Instead, Zoey found herself staring at a little mottled feather, watching Melissa struggle to make it float off the desk. The Slytherin girl was mumbling " _WingardiumLeviosaWingardiumLeviosaWingardiumLeviosa_ " in an endless loop under her breath, waving her index finger in a poor replacement of her wand.

Eventually she gave up with a huff of annoyance, leaning back and crossing her arms. "That's all I got."

Scorpius looked over her with a small shake of his head. Zoey felt a twinge of sympathy for the other girl, having been on the other end of that look several times herself and knew first-hand how it made her chest clench with failure and her mood plummet to have disappointed-

"Is there a particular reason," Scorpius's drawling voice broke into her thoughts, "that you haven't even tried yet?"

Zoey felt herself blush, sitting forward at once. "Sorry, sorry I thought we were taking turns. I mean, it would make sense for you to prefer one-on-one attention to correct each of us- after all, that way you could give better advice. I mean-" as she absentmindedly rambled she put a hand above her own practice feather, narrowing her gaze on it and giving it a firm mental command _Up_.

It was lighter and less less aerodynamic than she'd expected though, so instead of rising to her waiting palm it twisted around her hand and kept flying into the air like a leaf in the breeze. "Noo-" the Ravenclaw jumped to her feet, reaching for it but missing. Instead it just went higher and higher in the air, and though she scrambled to stand on a desk she still couldn't reach where the brown-and-white plume bounced. "No, stop it! You get back here-"

The feather stubbornly bobbed as though debating whether or not it should listen to her request, before the magic lifting it up ended and it fell back into the hold of gravity. Zoey snatched it from the air as soon as she could reach. " _Thank_ you." she told it, turning to sit when she noticed the looks of shock directed at her.

Melissa's mouth was hanging wide open, her eyes as big as galleons, and while Scorpius wasn't nearly as open with his expression his eyebrows were raised and his gaze flicked between her and the feather with disbelief.

"...what?"

"You- how did you do that?" The Slytherin girl reached out to pluck the feather from the Ravenclaw's hand. She started turning it over and inspecting every barb as though there had to be something existentially different about it. It was just a normal feather though, same as hers. Might have even come from the same owl.

"I- I just told it to come up?" She fidgeted on her feet, unable to shake the feeling that she'd done something unusual. Something wrong. "Like a broom? Works well enough for them so I figured why not give it a try… I mean, it can't be part of the _broom's_ enchantment to react like that. Brooms don't fly from verbal commands, you just guide them- which is a good thing, because if they were stuck to verbal directions that wouldn't work well on windy days. Plus, it might mean that only one witch or wizard would be able to use them. At least that's the way voice recognition works for some phone commands and-"

"-So," Melissa cut her off before the rambling went any farther. "You just said 'up'. In your head."

"The exact same thing we do with brooms." Scorpius's eye twitched minutely. "And that worked?"

"Well…" she glanced up to where the feather had flown moments before. "Yes?"

There was another moment of silence, then Melissa turned and slammed her hands by her own feather, glaring at it for a long moment before she started muttering " _Up-up-up_ " the same way she'd been she'd been chanting the spell before.

Zoey chuckled at the sight and relaxed, seeing Scorpius stare at nothing with the blank expression he had whenever he was caught off kilter. "You okay there Malfoy?"

Grey eyes snapped over to her in a moment, "Is there a particular reason you thought to do that?"

"Not really." She gave a careless shrug, picking up the feather Melissa had dropped. "I mean, you're acting like it's unusual but to me it's really not. I'm not used to the school rules of witchcraft and wizardry and brooms and sorcery and herbology, so I just… find one thing that works, then try it everywhere else. Lets me figure things out."

"Not Sorcery." Scorpius corrected her absentmindedly, his gaze narrowing slightly as he considered her words.

"What do you mean? Why not sorcery?"

"Hogwarts doesn't teach sorcery, Wainbata. That word is muggle hogwash." One that he still believed could be related to a forgotten field of magic, but forgotten still meant useless. At this moment though he was trying to wrap his mind around the realization that ignorance, such as Zoey's, was something that could lead to surprising insight. It went against the grain for him. Power is knowledge. And a Malfoy was a master of all kinds of power. Yet, with all his education, he hadn't thought of something as simple as 'saying Up'. Scorpius felt his left eye twitch again.

"But…" Zoey didn't finish her question, instead leaving him to his own internal musing, and he was grateful for it.

 _But Salazar Slytherin had called her a sorceress._ Multiple times. Zoey Malam looked down at the feather with a small frown. She really doubted a Founder of Hogwarts would casually use a 'hogwash' term, therefore it had to mean something.

A small epiphany went off in her mind and she fingered her silver dagger charm absentmindedly. Maybe- maybe those spells of his, maybe they really weren't usual magic. He'd called them powerful, and said that not everyone was suited to learn the lessons. In an extremely bigoted and self-important manner, but that had been the jist of it. Salazar had laughed, _laughed_ at her wand- and now that she was looking past her instinctive defense of the tool her mother had used, maybe… maybe she didn't need to use it. Maybe she needed something other than a stick with a bit of dead animal inside it.

Sorcery. Wizardry. Wands. "Sailing in a wagon, huh?" Zoey mumbled under her breath, blinking rapidly at the silver bracelet of charms on her wrist. At the staff and binoculars and the dagger and at the newly-open link. She ignored the curious looks of the two Slytherin's, not explaining the strange comment as she reconsidered everything she knew of magic and most specifically Salazar's casual words. Then her lips curled into a smile. "Looks like I need a boat."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As one of the most successful Wizengamot Lawyers, the spearhead for S.P.E.W. and other creature rights organizations, and one of the smartest witches in History, one would assume that Hermione Granger-Weasley was more than equipped to handle any conundrum thrown her way. In fact, more often than not she found ways to conclude such issues before they turned into anything monumental with a deft efficiency that her colleagues admired and envied.

Indeed, it was quite rare for the war-hero-turned-successful-politician to ever be at a loss for what to do next. Rarer still for that indecision to be visible to the people around her. Hermione had grown deathly silent when she read that Rose had broken into another House's dorm room and stolen from another student. It hadn't just been the many, many rules she broken in doing so- "No fewer than thirteen, if the rulebook hasn't been changed-" but the description of the near-malicious rumor mongering Rose had apparently started. It was entirely unlike her sweet daughter to do something so harmful, but Hermione was not one to ignore facts. She had immediately pulled out a parchment and quill to start drafting a letter to her daughter. Apart from a few stray ink drops from the readied quill the parchment remained blank, feather pensively tickling her chin as she repeatedly revised the letter in her head.

Ron Weasley had been far more explosive in his reaction, picking up the letter from where Hermione had dismissed it. Upon reading the same words his Weasley temper reared in its usual spectacular fashion. Ron had shouted almost every swear there was- probably the only range of vocabulary in which he knew more euphemisms than his wife. It was hard to tell where his anger was directed, as his rant traveled after several topics. Rose for her actions, doing something so extreme to mar her previously spotless school record. Then to Lorcan, who had been a part of the delinquency that his daughter had been caught in. He couldn't seem to decide if the Scamander twin should be blamed more for doing it or for not bringing Rose to her senses. Then his anger went on to this Ravenclaw girl who remained unnamed in McGonagall's letter, because could this possibly have been instigated by her first and if so, how dare she do something to his daughter. And if that were so, why in Merlin's beard hadn't his daughter come to him about it first? If it weren't so- what had Rose been _thinking_?!

His anger having made a full circle Ron had eventually sat at his wife's side, his foot tapping impatiently on the kitchen tiles.

Harry Potter looked at the very different manifestations of anger on the opposite side of his dining table, at a bit of a loss himself. The two had been over at his house because apparently, yet another Second War Chronicle was being drafted, and as 'The Big Three' they were asked to verify the accuracy of most of it. They'd enjoyed a very nice meal before getting to work on the thick stack that was still in the planning stages, and was mostly just lists of facts at this point. It still sat forgotten in the middle of the table, a history of grand success that seemed to mock their mundane and yet somehow even harder circumstances.

Harry was more used to receiving news of his children's misadventures than his childhood friends. James was up to an antic of some kind with Roxanne and Lorcan near every week, something that initially made him more wistful than anything. After all, his time at Hogwarts hadn't been nearly so carefree. This was his children experiencing the extended childhood they themselves had been denied, exploring and adventuring without a threat of imminent death hanging over their heads. _Because wasn't that exactly what he fought for?_ Harry would remind Ginny. _Why he chose to remain an Auror even after they'd found the last Death Eaters, a wizard who literally fought to create a safe environment?_

George Weasley had been even less concerned about the similar troubles with his youngest child, Roxanne. He usually bragged about her latest adventures when they gathered around family dinners, and Harry suspected his brother-in-law of even aiding in some of the plans. It was too much of a coincidence that Roxanne had released frogs and a swarm of mayflies in the very same corridor that her father had once turned into a swamp. George Weasley was not a disciplinarian. It was part of the reason he was so successful in running his Joke Shop.

Harry Potter sighed. He'd thought life would become simpler as an adult. He hadn't realized how much work and stress there was for parents in even a functioning family. Growing up with the Dursleys hadn't exactly given him a good model, either. All he knew, when James had been born, what what not to do. Harry had never ignored or dismissed his children, never withheld meals, never forced them to wear or look any particular way for the sake of his 'image' in public. He knew the Dursleys were a spectacularly low bar for him to judge family standards against, but it was all he had. Everything else he'd done as a father was completely made up and sometimes he wondered if everyone knew it.

He could see the headlines now- _'Rita Skeeter, Here to Report Harry Potter's Complete Failure as a Family Figure'._

The feeling only grew as he read McGonagall's second letter. His children had instigated a fight in the Great Hall. Not a foodfight, not a fistfight, but an actual magical fight had happened at school. As an Auror he knew that was the most dangerous of the three- if one spell had gone wrong, or if even unharmful spells mixed and amplified in untested ways, injuries could be bad enough to land wizards in St. Mungo's for weeks. McGonagall had several students set to be expelled.

And his son, James, was one of them. Along with Roxanne. As soon as the later was cleared to leave the Hospital Wing, both were to be suspended and sent home. Pending an investigation, they may or may not be allowed to return after the winter holidays.

He put his head in his hands, sharing his friends' confusion. Harry could never have predicted any of his children choosing such actions. Assuming, of course, that any kind of action had been warranted at all. Harry was most surprised that the fight had been Hufflepuff. He was well aware of James's dislike of Slytherin House- it was something of a family trait, unfortunately. Suddenly remembering Albus's fear- _fear_ \- of being Sorted into that House, Harry knew he'd made the right decision to try and undo that prejudice as much as possible, to try and re-teach his children that no House was better than the others just because. But it seemed he hadn't succeeded with correcting James' mindset. If anything, this fight implied that it had gotten worse.

This had become… bullying. The word made Dudley's face flash across his mind. Not Dudley Dursley the adult, the distant cousin to whom Harry sent and received family Christmas pictures every year. No, in his face hovered the hamfisted, overweight and sneering boy who had been a monster at school and treated as an angel at home because his parents wouldn't listen to the many teachers and counselors who'd told them about their child's flaws.

Harry felt sick to the stomach remembering conversations with both McGonagall and Ginny, both women expressing their concerns about James's behavior over the last few semesters. Had he really raised a Dudley, right in his own house without even realizing it? Merlin's beard- did- did that make him an _Uncle Vernon_?

Before Harry's fears could grow any further Ginny arrived, tray in hand. "Tea?"

The word broke the cloud of frustration and melancholy that had gathered, and Harry took the offered mug gratefully.

Hermione put down her quill to take a drink as well, nudging Ron with an elbow to prompt him to do the same.

Ginny smiled at her brother comfortingly before she sat down herself, teacup in hand. "Not the night we expected, is it?"

The three other adults groaned like the inexperienced individuals they actually were, then looked at each other and chuckled at themselves. "Seems so." Hermione agreed, glancing at the piles of papers they were supposed to be looking through.

Ron muttered something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like 'not the life I expected', but didn't repeat it.

Ginny re-read McGonagall's letter about James, and instead of angry she looked only sad. So far, the first few moments of the fight were the only things McGonagall had complete reports about. Roxanne had petrified a Prefect, and then James had tried to hex someone who'd threatened her in response. While strong family ties were good, Ginny pursed her lips and Harry knew what she was thinking: James should have cast a defensive spell, not an aggressive one. Roxanne may have cast the first spell, but their son had undoubtedly fueled the first fight.

"McGonagall confiscated everyone's wands." Ron chimed in, his blood pressure visibly lower now that he'd had some tea. Harry wondered briefly if Ginny had put a drop of calming drought in the drink- he was certainly panicking less. "I don't think that's ever happened before."

"The school is over fifteen-hundred years old, Ronald. I'm sure some such similar has occurred."

He grunted in answer to his wife.

"I think it's a good start," Ginny spoke up. "They've been using their magic poorly, it seems, so they shouldn't keep it."

"They have their magic with or without the wands," Harry pointed out, that Auror lesson firmly drilled into his mind. Many an unscrupulous wizard took their time to learn wandless spells after all. "And it's a punishment from McGonagall. I- think," he hesitated and glanced at Ginny. "We'll need to give them our own punishment."

The ginger woman smiled encouragingly and he relaxed. Harry may not have experienced proper parenthood, but Ginny certainly had. Molly Weasley had managed to raise seven children, two of which were the most notorious troublemakers of their age, and one of whom had been the only girl in a batch of boys. If that also troublemaking girl- who became his _lovely_ wife, Harry took care to point out even in his own mind- agreed with him, then he couldn't be too misplaced in his parental suggestion.

"Bloody hell, what are we supposed to do about that, then?" Ron threw up his hands. "There's only so many garden gnomes they can throw over the break."

"It's a start." Hermione agreed with them both. "And maybe coal in their stockings."

Harry had to hold down an amused smile. "Maybe confiscate their favorite toys?"

"They're not toddlers, Harry."

"Exactly my point." Besides, denying things to children as a punishment still rubbed him the wrong way after the Dursleys. Even little things, rather than essentials such as meals, always rankled him. "Our kids won't learn anything from us taking their hair products, or making them wear ugly clothes, or-"

He stopped, his memories of the Dursleys actually dredging up something useful. Dudley, in a horrible maroon uniform with orange knee high socks. Harry's fingers tapped on his emptied teacup and a glint of an idea started to shine in his eye.

Ginny caught that look and raised an eyebrow, but Harry shook his head a bit. He'd have to look into it first and see if it was even possible. And if it was… oh ho ho, James would lose that ego of his right quick.

He might need to pull a few strings at the Ministry to make it happen though. Normally the Auror would have balked at the idea of using his political connections like that, but he wasn't doing anything unethical, just hoping to cut through some red tape. Which in some ways might be unethical…

Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't know how his wife pulled his friends from their bad moods, just that there was a round of light giggling around the table by the time he tuned back in. Ginny was passing out some fresh-baked cookies, Ron was roaring with laughter at whatever had just been said, and Hermione had set aside her quill. It would probably find its way back into her hand later, but for now she enjoyed the retelling of Draco Malfoy as a ferret.

His own face broke into a smile. Two and a half decades later, he still loved that story.

The four adults at the table could have stayed like that forever, merrily reminiscing on the best times of their lives. They talked about things from their adult lives. The Wizarding World's relief at catching the last Death Eater- "You made a complete fool of yourself that whole weekend, Ginny. I'm surprised your face didn't get stuck with that cheesy grin." "I think the entire Wizarding World was doing that, Ron. At least I was celebrating the renewed safety of my fiance."- to their weddings- "I got _the worst_ pre-marriage warning talk ever." "Ron, I married a girl with five older brothers. Five." "Hermione's parents are dentists, Harry. Dentists. Those drills are barbaric." "For the last time, Ronald, they were showing you the family discount!"- and their family vacations when the kids were toddlers- "Remember when Lily, Albus and Hugo buried each other on the beach?" "Of course! Then that crab crawled toward them and Albus started crying, and James went running over to help. That was adorable."

They ended up talking about their time at Hogwarts too. From childhood quidditch games to win the Cup- "Which one you talking about Harry? It happened twice you know, even if you only helped get one of them." "That wasn't my fault!"-, the Yule Ball- "You were absolutely stunning, 'Mione. Couldn't take my eyes off of you." "You went with Padma, Ron." "And you went with Krum. Didn't stop me from looking."- even winning the House Cup their very first year of Hogwarts.

"You know, it was obviously intentional." Hermione pointed out, pushing away her dessert. Ron eagerly took the plate and ate what she'd left. "Dumbledore must have done the math to put us exactly five points ahead of Slytherin. Five. Just enough to seem close, but still win. He was a great man, but a bit biased."

"Or," Ginny piped in, gripping Harry's hand under the table. "He was trying to reward some foolhardy but brave children."

"Or both." Ron spoke around a mouthful of sugar cookie, hastily wiping a few crumbs away from the pile of paper that still waited in the middle of the table.

Harry smiled softly, wistful as ever at the mention of Dumbledore. It had taken quite a while for him to sort out his feeling for his old Headmaster. He'd been angry at the manipulations and the secrets and distraught by his death, but time had tempered the hurt and sadness until he could think of the man as the surrogate father he'd wished he had.

"We should get started on that." Hermione gestured to the pile of Second War facts, having been reminded of it by Ron's poor table manners.

Just like that Harry was reminded again that they were adults. As a child Ron- and okay fine, him as well- would have complained about the pile of work. Might have even tried persuading Hermione to do it all for them and give summarise at the end. Instead they each grabbed a packet and started going through it, sometimes verifying with eachother before correcting something.

" _Why_ does this person care about the Professor's protections for the Philosopher's Stone?" Ron bemoaned. "And why the hell do they think Fluffy had _four_ heads? Three was more than plenty."

Ginny looked over his shoulder. "They also seem to think it was Harry who saved you and Hermione from the Devil's Snare. They're suckers for a damsels in distress story."

"Damsel- _s?_ " He squacked in outrage.

"People have a right to know, Ronald." Hermione placated him, then a teasing light entered her eyes. "And you _were_ panicking."

Ron's face flushed and he dipped his quill in fresh ink, hurriedly crossing out the mistakes and fixing them.

Harry's packet was focused on the end of their Hogwarts years, trying to construct their path of their hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes. He was begrudgingly impressed by what they'd gathered- by unanimous decision they tried not to let too many details about the whole Horcrux deal out to the public, lest the next power-hungry wizard attempt to follow in Tom Riddle's footsteps. They had dismissed the long time destroying them down to simply finding the hiding places, and not the actual difficulty that was destroying a Horcrux. Merlin, they'd lugged that locket around for weeks because they'd been unable to even scratch it without Godric's sword.

He flipped a page and was surprised to see a map of their hidden locations. There was the Gaunt Shack in Gloucestershire, the place they'd destroyed the locket in the Forest of Dean in Northern England, and- oh, that was unique. They'd put a giant circle around the Albanian Forest where Professor Quirrell must have been possessed. Harry usually forgot to count that one.

Then the Auror frowned at the parchment, an odd niggling suspicion at the back of his mind. This map looked familiar- _very_ familiar, and yet he was certain he'd never actually drawn out Horcrux locations like this before.

The last time he'd felt like this had been with a different map, Harry recalled, and just like that it clicked into place. He jumped to his feet. "I'll have a thought- I'll run it by you, but I need to grab another map. I'll muddy it up if I don't have it."

Ginny looked up in shock as her husband disappeared out the door, then through the fireplace floo. She glanced at her brother, then Hermione, but all they could really do was just shrug. Harry had a tendency to run off with whatever stray thought entered his head. It didn't always result in him literally running off, but at the times it did he would be back soon. While they waited they continued to wade through the endless pile of facts, a task Hermione was doing with quick ease because of her lawyer experience.

True to form Harry returned a few minutes later, a handful of loose notes in his hands as he rushed back into the living room. He threw them all on the table and started sorting through them almost frantically, and Hermione protested as he got them mixed in with the other papers they were supposed to be sorting.

He ignored her continued complaints about the fireplace soot he was smudging on the parchment, and gave a cry as he slapped two maps down next to the one he'd been inspecting before. "I knew it." Harry hissed, looking at the places where their markings lined up. "Look- look, they're the same."

"Harry? What's the same?" Ron got to his feet and looked at the labels on the maps, then his jaw dropped. "Bloody hell, are you serious?"

The marks on three maps- the dementor attacks, the victim locations of Affliction Z, and the horcrux locations- parts of them lined up almost perfectly. Hermione got to her feet and joined in the staring, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Ginny spoke first, looking a bit concerned. "Does someone mind telling me what this is about? What's 'Affliction Z'?"

The other three started guiltily at forgetting that she was there. They shared a glance, then shrugged. It wasn't like they didn't trust her and since she'd already seen the maps they might as well. Better to tell her everything then have her draw a wrong conclusion- not that they even knew that much to begin with.

"It's- well, complicated." Ron started. "Four years ago an- incident, brought an old case to Ministry attention. A medical one. A Witch who'd gone missing was found with partial amnesia, but then her Healers noticed she didn't just lose her memories. Whatever happened, she- she's lost her magic too…"

Ginny gasped as the other three shuddered. It was so strange to imagine themselves without magic, almost nauseating.

"And we still don't know why," Hermione said with obvious frustration, "Only that there have been a few more scattered cases since. All in Europe. There's never a group outbreak like there would be for a disease, but there are no signs of poisoning or potion or any sort of animal that could be doing it either, so they haven't found the cure."

Harry took up the tale. "We only recently noticed that the Dementors- the ones that have been escaping from Azkaban- seem to have been gathering to travel along the same paths. And now-" he looked down at the newest map of their own travels in the Seventh Year. "It looks like we know _why_ they're going where they were."

"A few stray coincidences doesn't mean anything."

"Hermione, I'd say three of seven is plenty!" He pointed to the locations on the map. "Gaunt Shack, near where they found Avery. Albanian forest, where that camping wizard family were all found magicless by a muggle search and rescue group. Forest of Dean, where we found dementors kissing that Forest Ranger-"

"And they've causing havoc in quite a few other places as well." Hermione cut off his rant, ever the voice of rationality. "Correlation is not causation."

Ron's brow furrowed and he repeated the words, taking a minute longer to process than the other people around the table. Then he nodded. A few overlaps with locations of Voldemort's Horcruxes wasn't enough to convince his wife.

"Hold on one second," Ginny spoke up again, frowning. "I- there's something that's taking the magic of wizards?"

"You can't speak a word of it," Ron immediately started to warn her. "Shacklebolt will have our heads, not to mention our jobs-"

"Priorities," Hermione mumbled under her breath, and her husband shot her a fond smile before finishing his statement.

"-and so help me I will never live down leaving the Aurors twice."

Harry didn't comment, instead watching his wife intently. He knew that expression. That was her _'I think I just found out the Heidelberg Harriers' quidditch weakness'_ expression. He just had to wait for her to compose whatever idea that was.

"I- that elf of the Malfoy's, Skipty?" Ginny eventually asked out of the blue. "Did you ever find out what happened to her?"

"Skipsy. And no." Hermione said through grit teeth, then her eyes widened. "Oh. _Oh_. Oh dear no, you don't think…"

Ginny nodded. "Well it makes sense! I mean, it would also explain the portraits-"

"- _And_ why the cursebreakers couldn't find what had disrupted the barriers-"

"- _and_ really, why there wasn't much else stolen at all!"

"Womenfolk." Ron had joined Harry's side, the pair watching their wives talk at the rapid pace only they understood. "Any idea what they're on about?"

"You found a witch that didn't have any of her magic," Ginny took pity on her brother and husband. "What- what do you think would happen to a house-elf if- if the same thing happened?"

Harry paled, instanting seeing the point. A house-elf, despite all of the recent laws and equal-rights legislations that had pushed their way through Wizengamot, was still a magical creature. Possibly _more_ magic than creature. Without their magic… he remembered the House Elf's dead body, how the room's furniture had been overturned and damaged but how there hadn't been a single mark on Skipsy herself.

And the magical portraits- they hadn't been frozen, they'd lost the very element that had kept them alive in the first place.

"If Draco or Astoria had been in their Manor," Ginny said softly, "What do you wager they'd have lost their magic too?"

Ron looked bewildered. "But- but why there?"

"The Diary." Hermione said, naming the first Horcrux Harry had destroyed. "Tom Riddle's Diary. Oh, Lucius kept it there for _years_."

Harry sighed, mumbling "Now you believe me?" and knowing that little galvanized her into action like a mistreated House elf. He looked over the maps. "The only ones left is the Crystal Cave, Gringotts, and- and Hogwarts. The Room of Requirement."

There was a tense moment, and then Harry was running for the floo again. Ron leapt out of his chair and bodily tackled him to the ground. "Whoa there, mate- even I know we're not heading to Hogwarts now!"

"But-!"

"Harry, Hogwarts is _the_ safest place. It has centuries of protective enchantments. Whatever's going on, that creepy cave is the better bet to catch this thing in action."

"Catch it?" Ginny repeated shrilly, then glared down at her husband. "Harry James Potter you are not about to chase down a- a magic erasing _whatever_ and loose. Your. Memories. Are you?"

In moments like this she really resembled Molly Weasley herself, hands on her hips and red hair framing her face.

"Er- no and yes?" He offered, now using Ron as a bit of a shield between himself and his irate wife. "Or would that be yes and no?"

"Har _ry_."

"Shacklebolt will send my Aurors, Gin. I can't ask them to go take a risk I'm not willing to take myself."

"You don't 'ask' them to go," Hermione sighed at the old point of contention. "You're _Head_ of the Department. You just tell them to go."

"Point stands," Ron mumbled, scratching at his nose.

Harry ignored them both and cautiously stepped around the friend he'd been using as a buffer. "We'll be careful." He gathered Ginny into his chest, ignoring her initial protests and waiting for her to return the hug. " _I'll_ be careful. First sign of danger we'll apparate straight out of there."

She nodded, eventually wrapping her arms around him too. "I thought we'd put this all behind us."

"It's not Voldemort." Harry said, not realizing he knew that until he'd spoken the words aloud. He blinked, then nodded decisively. "It's not Riddle. I would have felt- _something_ if it were."

He reached up to touch his scar, a habit he'd lost twenty years ago.

"And if Voldemort had been able to remove magic from people, the War would have been much different." Hermione agreed, then picked up the quill she'd put away. "We need to write to the Minister about this- and McGonagall."

They all nodded agreement, wanting the extra assurance that even in the best defended school there was, their children were safe. Harry noticed absentmindedly that Hermione was using the parchment she'd previously addressed to reprimand Rose. He nodded in silent agreement. Unfortunately, they had more to worry about than what troubles their children had gotten into.

* * *

 _Hello! it's great to see you all back again. I wanted to add in a little bit of my planning notes that led up to this chapter- just in case any of you guys had curiosity for my reasoning/inspirations!_

 _The nervous/scared House Elves:  
I imagine that Hermione would have many programs in place for previously abused House Elves to recover and work safely, and Hogwarts would definitely be one of those places_

 _Meeting in the Divination Tower:_

 _Inspiration for this goes to my beta. In this generation, they don't know where the Room of Requirement is. (parents never told their kids specific Hogwarts secrets, mentioned that in ch15). Even if my beta was half-joking at the time, rereading about the divination room in Prisoner of Azkaban actually revealed some pretty cool facts. Namely, a_ _'silvery ladder' that forms as it descends to let Harry and the whole class into the room (JK never said how Trelawney knew that people were outside, so I made up the bell and knocking passcode. James was shown how it worked by the Marauder's Map), i_ _ts own fireplace. (How cool is that?! Trelawney used it to boil some 'heavy, sick sort of perfume'. I imagine the Legacies utilizing it more for roasting smores.), and a lot of a_ _rmchairs and poufs. Like, a ridiculous amount._

 _All of those things actually add up to a pretty cool hangout spot! So we stuck with it for the setting of the legacy meeting._

 _The adult's epiphany:_

 _I have been dropping hints for_ ages _! If ya'll want a full spoiler read my oneshot prequel, otherwise just wait a few more chapters. ( **RoyalRose, there's your hint if you want it!** ) Otherwise just rest assured IT IS NOT VOLDEMORT. Or any Death Eater return. Or one of his limbo-trapped soul pieces wreaking havoc. I personally don't like fics centered on Voldemort's re-re-re-return from death. That happened enough times in the original series. We are moving on, people._

 _Oh yeah, and Albus punched James. That happened. *cough*finally*coughcough* Please give me feedback on that whole scene- it was my first time writing one with_ eight _characters interacting with eachother, I wanna know what ya'll thought!_

 _~E_

 _ps- a few of you were a bit disappointed by the lack of punishment by McGonagall in last chapter. I just wanted to explain that the Character POVs last chapter were of students who wouldn't KNOW what the punishments were! each person was only told their own knowledge of the situation. I always planned on James and Roxanne's suspension until Christmas- they're just waiting for Rox to wake up in the Hospital Wing before sending them off._

 _pps- J. that was a_ lot _of reviews ;-) I don't mind answering the questions, but I don't wanna write them in the story. try a fanfiction account to PM me instead!_


	30. Ch 30 True Colors

**Ch 30- True Colors**

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 _Thanks for all the reviews! and I really love that a lot of them were long ones, you all made my day_ ^v^

 _turnthedoor- yay! and yes. things are converging to reach the point hinted in the title/prologue_

 _Yami Umi- welcome back, I hadn't seen you for a few chapters! I'm glad Albus's character growth is getting the stamp of approval._

 _Wainbata- dude. DUDE. you chose wainbata as your guest name. I love it! and yes, that was my inspiration for most of Rose's personality. and James, to be honest. thanks so much for taking the time to review! The support felt (feels) really great. :)_

 _New York 613- happy to hear you love the story!_

 _J- don't get desperate, get creative! your idea was pretty interesting, don't let laziness get in your way._

 _Grey Eminence- oh, em, gee! that was an amazingly long review! I am so relieved the family meeting lived up to expectations, and Yes it was always the plan for Lysander to be the person who called it. I honestly didn't expect the backlash against Sandy back in ch 25, but I was pleasantly surprised to find I'd led readers along the same emotional trip as Zoey! Lysander is awkward and Lorcan is an idiot. Great summary. And yes, poor Harry and his poor luck with family problems. quite true._

 _You also brought up a good point about the conflict between Rose's personality and her crush, Grey- I decided to address it in the first part of this chapter, so thanks and kudos to you!_

* * *

"I'm fine- _fine!"_ Albus told his hovering family for the millionth time as they sat outside of the Hospital Wing. Healer Prin was ridiculously busy unfortunately, so though his bone fracture had been healed he was still waiting for a potion to reduce the swelling overnight.

"Are you sure?" Lily pressed, folding her arms and once again channeling her mother-bear impression.

"Lily, I am sure I'm sure." he said, then winced as he repeated himself yet again. It wasn't a true stutter, but it had been years since he'd last been mocked for his speech pattern. He was a little self-conscious, but did it best to ignore it. "Go get dinner before the Great Hall closes."

It didn't take much more persuasion to get his little sister to leave. They may be Potters, but they still had a Weasley appetite. Most of the family left with her, and Albus sighed with relief at the renewed quiet their departure brought. His family was much, much too loud at times.

Although- he'd been a bit loud himself, hadn't he? Albus flexed his swollen hand uncomfortably, remembering the words he and James had exchanged. He'd never spoken that much in any meeting… actually, he couldn't remember ever offering an opposing stance other than a raised hand. Was it always that- that _satisfying_ to just speak out like that? To say exactly what he was thinking and stand his ground if for no other reason than he thought his opinion was something to share?

He could get addicted to it.

Though, Albus knew the reason it felt so good. He was _proud_ of his opinions, his beliefs. He wanted others to know his stance on issues whether or not they were interested themselves. That wasn't a Gryffindor-esque mindset. It was a very- very Slytherin thing about himself, and Albus hated that.

"So, what did you want?"

Albus's eyes snapped open, surprised to see that a family member had stayed- and actually been completely silent during his inner reflection. He felt his mouth tug down in a frown. "Excuse you?"

Rose Granger-Weasley twirled a ringlet of hair around her finger, the same strand she'd chewed nervously during the meeting. Then she took a deep breath and turned on the bench they were both seated on so she could face him more directly.

See, _that_ was a Gryffindor thing to do. Square up to a potential conflict because it was a conflict, not because of herself.

"On Friday, when- on my way to Care of Magical Creatures, before you scared Peeves off… you wanted to talk about something, right?"

"Right." Albus agreed, but didn't elaborate, instead watching Healer Prin bustle around the room. Several of the beds were still filled with students from fight, in various stages of recovery. Most would be out pretty soon, Healer Prin was just keeping them to make sure nobody relapsed into jinx boils or vomiting more slugs. Others, though, had been the victims of poorly-performed transformation spells, and would need some time before their random patches of purple fur or orange skin would recede.

Albus glanced to Roxanne's bed, seeing the girl herself still unconscious and her brother Fred asleep at her bedside. Roxanne and the three beds adjacent to her were the more critical patients, victims of multiple hexes and charms and jinxes. Healer Prin had to be careful lifting the spells else they mix in untested ways and create further complication. The magical doctor checked on them the most out of everyone, twice in just the time that Albus had been sitting here.

Rose hesitated, clearly unsettled by the Albus's one-word response, and then sighed, guilt laced in her voice. "I'm sorry, I just- I couldn't believe I'd been yelled at in front of everyone, and then I got my first detention ever, and then Peeves showed up again and people were laughing and-" Her voice reached a note of panic at just the memory, and she gulped in effort for a lower decibel. "I just wanted to get out of there."

He'd known that, her motivations at the time had been pretty obvious. What hurt was that she hadn't taken the time to consider his.

At least she was considering it now. _Four days later._ Albus chided the petty thought- she was making amends by asking, and that was what mattered. Well, what mattered more. "I wanted to know why you'd broken into Zoey's room." And why she'd grown so cold to the Ravenclaw girl in general, but he wasn't sure how to approach that subject.

"We just said," Rose mumbled and gestured vaguely in reference to the meeting they'd just left. "We were worried she was up to something."

"No you weren't." Albus refuted, the high of his argument with James giving him the confidence. "Well, I mean you probably were, but that isn't why you did it Rose. Stealing her diary?"

"I didn't know it was a diary!" Rose was quick to defend, her eyes wide. "She'd written it in some kind of rune, I didn't know what it was until after I translated it!"

Zoey wrote her diary in runes? That was weird. Albus shook his head to refocus. "Then why did you take it?"

"I thought- it looked like it was just a Ravenclaw thing. Their walls are bookshelves! Their _entire commons_ is a library, Al! Can you imagine?" Her eyes started shining with energy at the memory. "They don't have to go anywhere to find a good book, or finish their homework. I thought it was- I thought that her diary was some sort of private project or something that she was working on. And I mean really, with her grades, the only thing she should be working on was studying. You know, like a _proper_ Ravenclaw."

Albus knew that, once Rose started to ramble, very little could get her to stop. And this was no exception- his cousin was barely breathing as she went on.

"Which, you know, she's really really bad at being. Ravenclaw, I mean. She can barely remember anything I teach her, her wandwork is absolutely dismal, and she never takes my suggestions seriously. We both know I am a smarter person than her, and yet the Sorting Hat didn't even consider me for Ravenclaw. What makes her so special, anyways? She's not even average, she's below average. And yet no matter how ridiculously pathetic her attempts are she makes Malfoy smile and no matter how rude he is she doesn't hesitate to be nice to him and she's optimistic to the point of idiocy and even though she is so way out of her depth just being here at Hogwarts- can't even cast _Avifors,_ Al- she never stops trying to reach a higher level and never gets anywhere but she just does it again and that just- it _bothers_ me to see her get back up again every time. And I don't know _why._ But I know it got worse every tutoring."

Spent, Rose flopped back on the bench with a huff, pulling so hard on a strand of her hair a part of Albus worried it would come off. Most of him, though, was unsettled by the harsh words Rose had just spewed about his crush.

Well, perhaps not what she'd said about Zoey but the way Rose had said it. Every word had been laced with irritation and frustration not proportional to the situation at all. Practically everything she'd described should have been taken in a positive light, and in fact many were things Albus himself liked about Zoey, but Rose had listed them off like everything good about Zoethia Malam was a personal affront-

Oh. Oh, that was it. Albus had never heard that emotion in his cousin's voice before, that mix of bitter sadness laced with hubris, and that was why it took so long for him to place it, but when he did it made sense. "You're jealous of her."

"Pfft. As if." Rose immediately rejected the idea, her hair falling forward to cover her cheeks. "Me, Rose Granger-Weasley, jealous of a kid that can't even keep up with first year courses? Don't be ridiculous. That's ridiculous. I mean sure, I wanted to be in Ravenclaw too, but you don't see me jealous of Lysander. And it makes his sense _he's_ in Ravenclaw, he's always reading to fill his free time because the school courses are just that easy for him. I don't have that luxury, I work really hard to keep my grades. She works hard in tutoring, but then she goes off and goofs around. Plays with peeves and constantly getting into things. And fine, she's better with people than I am- for all that she gibbers on and on she's barely ever mean. I'm know still working on that-" her gaze cut over to him in a quick apology. "-but come on Al, that doesn't mean I'm jealous. It's not like I- I can't imagine myself doing the same in her situation. Not that I'd ever let myself be in her situation, mind, and if I did I'd probably be as optimistic as she is, and… I'd maybe make Scorpius smile too…"

Her voice got weaker and weaker as she went, her breath hitching and Albus knew she was hiding a red face behind her certain of crimson hair. "You don't believe that at all, do you."

"She's a transfer student." Rose didn't try to persuade him. "People aren't _supposed_ to like her that easily. Merlin, Scorpius doesn't like _anybody_ and _he_ already likes her."

Albus felt a lurch in his own gut at the reminder, but pushed it away. Right now wasn't about his- or anyone else's possible- crush on Zoey. But apparently, Rose thought this was now about her crush on Scorpius, because she went on:

"I've never been, you know, good with the fact that I liked him. I'm not about to- to waltz up and start flirting with Malfoy- Dad would just, die on the spot. And he's never liked me back- obviously- so I figured, that's the way it would stay, right? At least until I got over him. No one else was about to start liking him meanwhile, and him feeling romantic? Hah. Not a chance. He's Scorpius _Malfoy._ He doesn't like anybody. But then the Transfer just waltzes on in, does whatever she wants and _doesn't care_ about what everyone else thinks of her, and I had no idea what to do with that. What are people supposed to do with that kind of problem?"

She may have meant it as a rhetorical statement, but Albus felt a spark of anger. He had never felt so close to understanding his cousin, and yet she'd never felt so alien to him before. He'd known- truly believed- that Rose had another reason for what she'd done. And that's what she'd given him. A reason. Not a justification. And though he'd expected just that, Albus couldn't help but feel disappointed in her.

"Zoethia Malam is not a 'problem' _,_ Rose, she is a _person._ A person that you treated terribly."

She bodily flinched in response, but Albus wasn't done. He'd let her speak her peace, now it was his turn.

"In fact, you treated her worse than terrible. You don't have to be a Voldemort to be cruel. You reached that all by your lonesome. You didn't throw Zoey into the Chamber of Secrets, or stalk her, or make her write lines with her own blood- you didn't _Crucio_ or _Imerio_ her or- or lay a finger on anyone, but that doesn't mean what you did wasn't Unforgivable. I'm not going to lie, I don't think I will never be able to look at you again, Rose, and not know exactly what you are capable of doing to another person. And because- because of what? Because Zoey was so nice, you couldn't get along with her? Because she doesn't let a bad situation leave her down, because she makes people smile, because _she's_ not mean to people the way that _you_ are?"

Albus Severus Potter had finally figured out what his kind of anger was. As it turned out- it was rather cruel in it's own way. He took Rose's own words and threw them back at her, feeling a vicious satisfaction as he saw every twisted barb land a solid strike. Because he was serious- their relationship was forever changed. He wasn't sure if he could stay her friend.

And yet, Albus still felt the desire to support her, to give her a hug and _help_ her, because they were friends. Because Rose was his cousin and because he knew that, twisted as her actions were, she hadn't meant things to become this way and that she needed all the support she could get. But that was _weak,_ for him to sway so easily in his convictions, and so he wouldn't. He had supported Rose- supported James- through too much. The definition of insanity was repeating same actions and expecting different results. Albus was done being insane. He was done expecting something better from them.

He looked around again at the Hospital Wing they were in, blaming Rose and James for this. For all these people who had been hurt because they'd gotten caught up in his family's drama. While a part of him stubbornly reminded himself of Lorcan's part in what had happened, he shoved the thought away, because Lorcan had apologized and shown his regret. And, Albus wasn't close to him the way he was James and Rose. His brother, and best friend. Former best friend.

Forget waiting for the healing potion. He was getting out of here. Anger still simmered in him, just was poisonous and invasive as he'd expect the emotion to be, but it was wavering. In the moment, given the choice between yielding to compassion and holding onto anger, Albus was not ready to let his rage fade just yet. He stood abruptly and startled leaving the Hospital Wing, still taking care not to interrupt the mending students.

"Wait!" Rose called, jumping to her feet. She seemed surprised when he listened, looking at her over a shoulder. "I really am sorry. Albus I know it- you're right, I was cruel and that's… not something I ever want to be again. I'm going to do everything I can to- grow from this. I'm going to become a better person."

And she meant it. She truly did, her very spirit glowed with Gryffindor determination and Rose bravely held his gaze in a show of sincerity, despite the pained tears that gathered in them. Because his every barb had hurt her, yes, and maybe Albus should feel guilty about tearing into what what were some of her deepest insecurities. But he found that he really, truly didn't.

"I'm sorry too." Albus told her before turning away, his voice icy and detached. "Because I don't know how long it's going to take for me to believe that."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As soon as they finished tutoring Zoethia Malam immediately rushed to see Jon. She let herself in the History Office and anxiously paced back and forth for a moment, not sure why she was here.

Correction, Zoey knew _why_ she was here. Jonovan was always her first support and confidant whenever anything happened. And yet- she hadn't told him of Salazar's Chamber. She _couldn't_ without breaking her promise, something she wasn't confident enough to risk breaking so early after striking it.

She was also worried about what Jon would do after she told him. He'd probably march right down to Salazar's statue and either blast it to smithereens for threatening his 'baby cousin', or get drowned himself.

Neither of which was an appealing outcome, so silence was her only option at this point. Which meant getting a second opinion on the whole wand vs boat analogy wasn't possible.

At least, not directly. Zoey let her gaze fall on the messy side of Jon's office, his latest attempts to recreate technology with magic components. 'Magtech', as he'd been calling it. She tapped her fingers on the giant desk she was leaning against. They'd initially come to Hogwarts for two reasons. First and foremost, Zoey had wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps. Their second reason, of course, was the vast expanse of reading material in the school library. The thousand-year-old school held arguably the largest collection of magical texts in the world they'd ever have access to. And so, though they'd visited some of the other magical schools, here was where they'd stayed.

Jonovan Malam Orion had been grabbing a new set of books from the library practically every day. His research- both into wandlore and the errant relation between magic and electricity- was the reason they'd made that Ravenclaw persona of his. At first it had been because he'd had to start with horribly basic material that any true wizard should have known already. Then Jon had become too noticeable as 'the Assistant', especially if he wanted to peruse the private library in Ravenclaw Tower.

Zoey had also caught him masquerading as a Ravenclaw merely because it was, to quote him, 'easier to get around'. She distantly remembered him saying he was 'done' with the disguise and put a finger to her chin. Had he meant he was done with the library, or that he would be making a new appearance to wear? It wasn't easy as it might sound to for a metamorph to look like someone completely new. Or at least, it wasn't for Jon. Without practice certain things about his new appearance just wouldn't seem natural to even a casual observer. Expressions that were normal for one face could look completely alien on others.

Either way the subject of his hobby was an innocent enough way to open a conversation about magic in general. And it never failed to send Jon on tangent after tangent… in a manner similar to her own, she smiled happily. Steeling herself Zoey knocked on the door to Jon's rooms, now more prepared for meeting her cousin. When he didn't answer she grumbled under her breath as she grabbed the door's new combination lock. "If you're taking _another_ nap, Jon, I am- I'll- I might seriously consider putting you in rehab for your caffeine addiction."

That decided, she returned her focus back to the dial and pursed her lips as she reached out to feel the magic embedded in it. She was immediately overwhelmed by how _vast_ it was, the small chunk of metal in her hands teeming such a wide and strong variety of protections that it left her reeling. Her exploration of Jon's enchantment felt like she was leaning over the edge of a canyon to look at the smallest of bushes miles away, a deadly and useless endeavor, and she dropped the metal lock with a sudden sensation of fear.

Only after she'd released it did she feel that the usual prickling sensation in her hand had extended almost to her shoulder, and she shook her arm out uncertainly. She didn't know how much of that sensation had been true instinct, and how much had been emotional hogwash.

"Well," she supposed aloud, putting a curved finger to her chin. "Instincts are mostly emotional hogwash anyways."

She wasn't going to try that again, that was for sure. Though protection magics tended to fade in intensity over time, that time was usually measured by the year. And knowing Jon, the paranoid genius would probably make boosting the defense a daily endeavor.

Zoey tapped the silver dagger on her bracelet, for a moment debating if she could possibly just break the steel lock, but then dismissed the idea. Jon had gone through some trouble to make it after all. He'd be a bit mad if she ruined it.

Instead Zoey kept her magic to herself as she picked up the spinning dial again. "Let's see… if _I_ was a paranoid, know-it-all big cousin, what three numbers would I choose?" She first tried the basics, twisting the number dial around to enter 01-02-03, then trying repeating digits. She moved through 01-01-01, 02-02-02, 03-03-03 and so on and so on with no success and got bored before she'd finished the thirties.

Then she tried numbers that were important to them. Dates like his birthday, other family birthdays and his parents' anniversary… nothing. There were one hundred cubed possible combinations on this thing. And Jon, she knew, would probably still be snoring by the time she went through all of them.

Finally she tried the dates that were important to him specifically. His high school graduation, his first day at college, his _last_ day at college…

Zoey paused, then turned the dial to 09-21-19, and sighed as the lock opened. Normally she'd be pretty happy to have figured out the code, but she didn't feel excited. While she understood it had been a day of freedom for him she had only felt a deepening of guilt.

She shook her head and put those thoughts away, setting her hand on the Hogwarts door to blur its defenses with ease. Zoey noticed with interest that instead of restarting at her palm the 'tingling' of her arm had continued from her shoulder. Seemed her unusual talent had more of an accruing symptom rather than a predetermined one. Good to know.

As soon as she opened the door she was blasted by the echoing sound of a snore like that of a bear, the noise emerging with every breath Jon took in the middle of the four-poster bed. There was _definitely_ a silencing spell of some kind on the entrance, Zoey firmly concluded. And maybe Jon was allergic to ghost dust or something, because he wasn't usually this loud back home.

How he didn't wake himself from his own nap was a mystery. Rasputin even lifted his head to look at her in agony over the sound he was being subjected to. Zoey sympathetically patted the Albanian Murtlap. She herself had lost the opportunity for many a sleepy morning's because of Jonovan.

She didn't even attempt to rouse Jon, knowing that it was far simpler to let the aroma of freshly brewed coffee do the work for her. Instead Zoey sat on one of the giant clothes-chests in the room and stared at the small purple flame she'd just created.

Since finding the secret entrance in Myrtle's bathroom, Zoey had been using her newly-acquired sense everywhere and on everything she could think of. So far she had mostly reconfirmed the obvious- like the magical nature of moving walls and staircases- and found a few new shortcuts as a result, but nothing as impactful as that entrance in Myrtle's room.

Looking at her small fire and 'sensing' it for the first time, though, Zoey was shocked to feel extremely familiar with it. While almost every other magic had some kind of foreign scent or sensation to it that she had to grow accustomed to, this one was natural to her. Very much so. It was like looking into a mirror, but instead of seeing a reflection of her face she was feeling an echo of herself.

It was kinda weird. And very mesmerizing.

She watched the purple flame until the water rose and mixed through the coffee grinds, the smell of the brew quickly filling the History Living Quarters. She got some hot chocolate going for herself too.

The coffee rose in the pot, and shortly after there was a moan and groan like that of the living dead as Jonovan Orion emerged from the mess of covers, staggering over to the cabinet and grabbing some mugs. He grumbled and patted her head as he waved a finger, the hot pot pouring itself into the cup he held out.

Zoey looked at his head and chuckled. As always, Jon's hair was a rainbow of colors when he was mostly asleep. Silver, red, green, and blue hair locks bumped into eachother like the worst camouflage ever. She grabbed her own bangs to confirm that it had become the same multi-chrome spread as his and laughed some more. "Hey, Rainbow Dash- you did it again."

"Har har." Jon said dryly, waving for a second cup to pour itself. The more he awoke the less vibrant his hair became, until it was back to his natural brown color. He was still groggy though as he cracked an eye open for the first time and asked "So- what's up?"

"Beside the sky and the castle and, it seems, a personal rainbow-" Zoey dropped the colorful bang she had been fingering. "I wanted to check in on you. You missed breakfast this morning."

"Sorry about that." Jonovan scowled, upset that he'd missed their appointed meet-up. "McGonagall called me to her office super early to give me a spiel about needing proper permission before taking a student off of Hogwarts Grounds."

Zoey blinked a few times. "You did what?"

"I took that Malfoy boy on a home visit; seemed the least I could do, since he's been tutoring you."

"Oh." she tightened her grip on her own cup, a bit surprised. She had read the article about Malfoy Manner, but hadn't worked up the courage to talk to Scorpius about it. Nor had she imagined he would ask _her cousin_ to bend rules on his behalf… yet, it probably was in him to take advantage of a connection like that. She was caught between wanting to thank Jon for going out of his way and wanting to know what had happened, but ultimately neither were her business. Jon did what he wanted, and Scorpius Malfoy told her- or in this case didn't tell- whatever he wanted, too.

Instead she took a sip of too-hot chocolate and asked "You in trouble?"

"Nah. Played the innocent newbie card- she lapped it up. Deputy Head's getting a bit tired of that, though. I can tell."

Zoey took a moment to wonder at the fact Jon called Professor Longbottom by his official title and not the Headmistress, but ultimately shrugged it away. As long as she knew who they were talking about she didn't care what names were used.

Rasputin climbed up in her lap and sprawled lazily, seeming to decide that his master's awake, non-snoring state was a prime opportunity for him to catch a quick nap himself.

Jonovan smiled and scratched his familiar behind the ear. "So, are you still planning to interrogate me five ways to Sunday about that fight?"

Him and his detective documentaries, Zoey smiled. She shook her head to his question though. She'd heard more than enough about what had happened, and probably would continue to over the next few days. It seemed to be all the school could talk about. "I am curious about one thing, though."

"Just one thing?"

 _"Mostly_ one thing." She stuck her tongue out in response to his teasing. "I get why you used your demon shape- still don't like it, for the record, but I do get it- but what was with the horns? You've never had horns. They made you look like a faun. All you needed was panpipes."

Jon looked insulted. "I thought they were cool. Kinda Darth-Maul-esque."

"Riiiight. Because wizard kids _totally_ know who that is." She rolled her eyes. They hadn't even known who Elphaba was, something that still astounded her. There was no chance they'd seen anything in the science-fiction field. Muggle science left most of her classmates confused, fake-space science would probably be complete gibberish to them.

"It still worked. You should have seen their expressions." He grinned over his mug of coffee, and Zoey blinked in surprise. Somehow the face had reminded her of Peeves for a moment.

"I think I have a pretty good idea." Zoey mumbled, knowing exactly how most people reacted to Jon's other shape. He looked truly inhuman to match the loss of his sense of self. Glowing eyes, two-inch-claws and the sharp pointed face of a fiend was unnerving enough to see on a living person, and when accompanied by Jon throwing a fireball or bolt of lightening in every direction it was downright terrifying. Even when it missed you.

Once he'd gained control of his magic though Jon had taken quite a liking to using that shape when it suited him. An easy feat for a metamorphmagi, it never failed to send instinctive 'run and cower' jitters through anyone who saw him.

"And now, they do too." He seemed exorbitantly pleased with himself as he guessed her train of thought from years of companionship.

She shook her head at the pride in his voice, bemused. His confidence was great to see but she'd like if Jon kept his caution just as prepped when it came to the anomalies of his own magic.

Jon flicked his fingers to set his coffee cup floating at his side as he picked up a book from his desk, the porcelain bobbing peacefully in the air as though floating the ocean.

Zoey peeked at the title and almost bounced with excitement. " _'Wandmakers of the 16th Century? '_ Are you still trying to figure out what makes wands work?" She couldn't have asked for a better opening subject.

Her cousin nodded, the book dog-eared and tagged at several places. The Ravenclaw in her would have been more upset if Zoey hadn't seen first-hand Jon's ability to repair the damaged paper with his magic. A trick she was determined to learn herself- practicing on her class notes, of course. She would never risk ruining a real book.

"If magic can make a piece of wood into a working conduit of energy, I should be able to replicate it with wires and electricity. But no-o-o," he bemoaned, "I can't find a proper account explaining _how_ wands work. The wandmaker communities are as tight-lipped as our parents at Christmas!"

Zoey smiled. The annual investigation about what presents would be under their tree had always been long and involved. And, naturally, they never managed so much as a sneak-peek into what their Christmas goodies would be. "That bad?"

"Worse." He declared. "They're that paranoid about competitors stealing their methods. I'm having enough trouble even developing a timeline of their development- for a brief stint wizards used staffs instead, but there's not even a clause on why or a comparison of their strengths. I was in the library all night trying to find a decent text."

Magic staffs? That had potential. Zoey filed that under the list of possible wand-alternatives, but was more concerned with her cousin's current dilemma. With his caffeine addiction, he did not need anything else keeping him from well deserved rest. "So- I get that you're pretty determined to get to the bottom of all this, but you do know how huge that library is, right? I've gotten lost in there."

"I seriously need to put a tracker on you one of these days…" Jon mumbled thoughtfully, well aware of her wandering tendencies.

"Ha ha." Zoey sighed. "And I wasn't finished. That library is big enough to live in. It seriously needs a search archive- but in the meantime, why aren't you using your resources?"

Jon blinked for a moment, then waved his current book toward the towering stacks that piled his desk. It was such a childish _Look look_ action that Zoey chuckled.

"Jonovan, you are a teacher-"

"-Assistant Professor-"

"-in this school, right? And your job is to educate all few-hundred of us about History of Magic. So why don't you just- use that?"

He blinked at her, his brow furrowing as he grabbed his coffee from the air for another sip. "Where are you going with this?"

"Give the students an essay. On the history of wandlore, which is- quite obviously- magic. Make them properly cite all their sources from the library, and then just use the best essays to track down what books the students had. That way the whole school does the legwork for you."

Zoey watched with barely concealed glee as Jonovan stopped completely in place, hardly seeming to breath as he registered her suggestion. He opened his mouth, left it there for a few moments, then closed it again. It wasn't often that someone got the best of her cousin and she relished the rare experience for what it was.

She wasn't the only one. Rasputin made his unique wheezing laugh at his Master's expense, and only then did the man finally compose himself.

Or at least, Jon reached the step where instead of just opening and closing his mouth the like evolved fish humans really were, he interjected an embarrassed cough in the process.

Zoey finally let herself laugh at his flustered state, the happiness bubbling up inside of her like a natural spring. "Why do I call you a paranoid genius? You're just paranoid."

"Why didn't I think of that _months_ ago?" He groaned and put his head in his hand. He then accusingly pointed at her with the coffee mug. "And for that matter- why didn't _you_ think of that months ago?"

"I did- and I thought you had. I just figured you'd dismissed it because… you know…" the Ravenclaw girl shrugged. "Well, it's not very ethical, is it? Not only is it kinda child labor and mostly abusing a position of power, but that's pretty manipulative to try to make the entire school do your dirty work for you."

"It'll be simple enough." Jon waved off the 'try' part of her statement with a dismissive flick of his wrist, his mind already turning to how quickly he could get that process started. "I've faced harder challenges- and besides, power is meant to be used."

Now it was Zoey's turn to freeze. She was glad he was taking the advice of course, better for his health and all, but his lack of hesitation was concerning in a different way. Especially the way Jon had said it. Like not only were his ethics not maintained to their usual standard, but like he'd actually done something similar before.

Her cousin was undoubtedly a manipulative person when he found it necessary. He'd always said it was easier to work people than work the system, and while Zoey usually found the opposite to be true Jon was scarily good at predicting _exactly_ what made other people tick. And how to set things up so that their natural response was what he'd wanted from the start. That tendency had only gotten easier for him after becoming a metamorphmagi, able to change himself into a casual stranger with a friendly word of advice or rebuke.

Smooth music started to play, pulling Zoey from her thoughts as a familiar voice started to croon. Too familiar. _Waaay_ too familiar. She groaned "More Sinatra? Jon, you have that playing every time I'm over here."

Jon's arms had been stretched to the other side of the room to start the record, and he crossed them indignantly. The casual action was made alien by his elongated limbs, his elbows jutting a few feet from his sides like a pair of of nonfunctional wings. They steadily returned to normal though as he spoke. "It's the best of the records I've got. Besides, it's growing on me."

"Like mold." Zoey mused, but didn't push the subject. Instead she asked curiously "So, when did Malfoy ask to go to his manor?" because that had been the day she'd spent in Myrtle's room, and the last she'd seen of Malfoy had been before he entered McGonagall's office.

"He didn't ask. I offered."

"You- why?" the Ravenclaw frowned, unsettled to turn her previous assumption on its head.

"He's a bright young student, Zoey, who went through a horrible tragedy. It was the least I could do to give the young man some peace of mind." He put his hand to his chest, the epitome of heartfelt generosity.

Zoey raised a brown eyebrow, tacking to the end of his explanation- "Is what you told McGonagall and Longbottom when they were trying to pin you for breaking the rules."

Jon didn't even try to deny it, instead smiling wider in obvious approval of her deductive skills. "I may have also wanted to vet his aptitude to continue as your tutor, considering what came of the other one that McGonagall assigned. That was not what I'd had in mind when I orchestrated those tutors for you. Fortunately, I see no reason at this point to remove Scorpius Malfoy from your sessions as well."

He sounded truly contrite about what had happened, but once again his phrasing sent an uncomfortable trill through Zoey. 'As well'. The two words rang back and forth one after the other in her head, spoken in a way that indicated previous accomplishment instead of hypothetics.

Rose had quit tutoring all on her own- but Jon didn't know that, nor had McGonagall. It had only been made official after the girls had had their very public falling out. By that logic, Jon thought it was their argument that had ended her previously-normal relationship with Rose. Ergo in taking credit for ending their sessions he was making it sound like he'd caused their public catfight.

Which was just ridiculous of course. Zoey immediately shook her head internally. Jon may be good at predicting people and sure, he would have known that Zoey would immediately confront Rose after connecting the dots, but it wasn't like he would have known when she'd do that. He couldn't have known that Lily and Hugo would tell her in the middle of the Great Hall, after hearing from some random person that a fake Lysander had been in Ravenclaw Tower on Halloween…

… except it hadn't just been a random person, had it? It had been a random Ravenclaw, just like Jon's fake-student metamorph. And Jon, ever vigilant in watching over her, had been incredibly slow to react to an argument that had gained the attention of half the Hall. Additionally, Zoey remembered that Jon had been arguing with James Potter earlier that week. He'd even mentioned something about compromised House security, but she'd been too distracted by the erratic nature of his magic to wonder about it at the time.

All of which of course was a good bit of circumstantial evidence that still lacked motive. Zoey couldn't image why Jon might have wanted her to get so angry, but then again such ignorance would have made her easier for Jon to predict.

The Ravenclaw blinked rapidly, unable to reach a true conclusion. There were too many leaps of assumptions for her to ever know for sure but through a singular method- ask. "Did you have something to do with my argument with Rose?"

To his credit, Jon was only momentarily surprised by the unrelated topic. Then he tilted his chin and almost scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't think you want to know the answer to that."

Except that now, she did. Zoethia always knew when Jonovan was lying, and knew he wouldn't give a non-answer unless he was avoiding a truth. Her grip tightened on the mug of cooled hot chocolate. "Maybe I don't _want_ to know. But I need to. So, yes or no, did you have something to do with my argument with Rose?"

"Yes."

The simple answer should have been more shocking to her. But, unfortunately, it really wasn't. Jon had gone behind her back for something as small as struggling to keep up in magic classes. Zoey should have been _more_ surprised to believe he'd really stopped investigating the _Scandals_ article about her just because she'd asked.

She didn't blame him for her angry rant at Rose. He may have laid out the path, but Zoey was the one who had walked down it. The argument, the things she'd said- her alienation of Gryffindor House- Rose's tears- Zoey detentions, her actions were what had caused them, not Jon. And the Ravenclaw in Zoey had to know- "How? Why? To what end?"

"The situation had deteriorated to the point that a drastic measure was necessary." Jon continued as though describing a movie plot and not their own lives. "When we came to Hogwarts, we both knew that students would find you odd, but that was out of our hands. Transferring to any school at this point made that inevitable. But you wanted, I quote, 'not to stick out any more than you had to'. So we decided not to advertise that we were family, and tied my hands when it came to playing favorites."

"Apparently," Zoey said with barely amused tolerance, "Not well enough."

He half laughed at that, going on with pride to describe what exactly he'd done. "So when you started garnering the wrong kind of attention, through no fault of your own, I was left with three options. Intervene directly. Intervene indirectly. Or do nothing."

Zoey did release a chilly laugh at the idea of him considering the third option. Her cousin had a very aggressive approach to dealing with problems.

"Responding to that article as myself, however, was just as likely to have a negative backlash as it was to actually work." Jon scowled as he remembered exactly what it had implied between him and Zoey, his practical-sister, then shrugged that thought away. "So when I found what I needed to know, I fed the information to you in a way that I hoped you would feed to everyone else. And, to ensure a bit more time on your part, I distracted the Professors that were supposed to be supervising the Hall with a possible solution to one of their oldest conflicts. The only hiccup could have been your Hufflepuff friends not passing on the rumor, but I had a few other options in case they didn't. "

"So you were the person who saw Lorcan and Rose break into my House on Halloween." The Ravenclaw closed her eyes, feeling bitter distaste that he'd not _only_ manipulated her but also Hugo and Lily. "And was just telling me ever considered during your planning?"

"Not for long." Jon admitted, and for the first time started to persuade instead of explain. "I know you Zoey. You either divert, or dodge. Which you did for this entire week of bullying."

He looked at her meaningfully, and Zoey squirmed under the silent accusation. "How do you-?"

"Rasputin was keeping an eye on you." Jon waved a hand at his familiar. "Recently, I've been able to see through his eyes. It was my only way to keep track of you since you decided keeping things from me was your way to solve problems."

The Albanian Murtlap feigned innocent sleep with a loud snore, prompting Zoey to shove the little traitor off her lap. He spryly twisted to land on his paws instead of his spiked back, and glared indignantly before resettling atop her shoe.

Normally she would be eagerly asking for all the details about Jon's newest magic skill, things like distance and duration and if Raz could hear instruction on things like where Jon wanted to look, but she was more mortified, wondering exactly what Jon had seen. Zoey knew he hadn't seen her nearly-drown, otherwise he'd have destroyed Myrtle's bathroom to get to her. But that was a very close call. Rasputin wouldn't be going back to the chamber with her again.

"That so?" she commented vaguely when she realized he wanted a response.

Jon deflated a little, clearly having wanted to share information about his new magic trick, but didn't change his stance. "It is. I'll admit, you kept your temper better than I would have. But yielding and showing a friendly face will only get you so far Zoey. The only way to get through to some people is through fear- or by having someone else fighting your battles for you."

"I didn't ask you to fight my battle." Zoey grit her teeth, starting to reconsider her earlier conclusion that she wasn't mad at him.

"It's not something you ask." He said stubbornly, his voice every bit the protective sibling he'd adopted himself to be as he put a hand briefly on her shoulder. "Left to you, Christmas would have come and then you'd have lost every opportunity to disprove the article before the time solidified it even further into facts for most of Hogwarts. Besides, you're louder when caught by surprise. Though I wasn't _quite_ expecting you to lose control of your magic, I won't deny that I am pleased with the hesitance it no doubt put in your adversaries."

Her frustration continued mounting. Zoey remembered how Jon had tried to persuade her to leave Hogwarts completely when this mess had first started. Hindsight, as ever, was exasperatingly perfect as Jon's comment about Zoey needing to 'face them herself' had been her first hint as to what he'd probably already started planning. Everything he'd done since had been a giant series of manipulations to put her, Rose, and everyone else exactly where he wanted to reach that endgame. Couldn't he see how twisted that was? "I can't just _scare_ people into believing me, Jon-"

"Of which I am aware, and have already taken the appropriate steps. Miss Christine is currently working through her third revision of her upcoming redaction. It's almost to the level of remorse that I believe is necessary."

Zoey blinked, distracted by curiosity at the new name. "Christine?"

"Oh yes- Christine Creevy, _Scandals_ author? I tracked her down by comparing the article's writing style to my essays. That girl is quite fond of the oxford comma." Jon added the last part as an aside, momentarily stepping out of the guardian role to instead critique as a teacher.

Oh. OH. That was why Creevy had defended the article so adamantly during the Tower debates- she'd _written_ the bloody thing!

"It took longer than I would have liked to confirm my suspicions. A week." Jon admitted remorsefully. "A whole week. I tracked down Miss Rose Weasley first- with a bit of help from Rasputin- and she fortunately confirmed that Creevy was involved for me. It seemed that her cousin Roxanne knew something at the time, but that girl had been writing an essay for me on Halloween, so she couldn't have been an active culprit. Then in the process of- persuading, Miss Freelance Journalist to write a new article redacting all of her previous works, she mentioned the involvement of two others."

"...two?" Zoey said hesitantly, sensing he wasn't counting Rose in that number and cursing her insatiable need for knowledge.

"Unfortunately, Lorcan was the only one who I managed to gather true evidence against. But don't worry, I'll be keeping a weather eye on future opportunities."

Someone other than Rose and Lorcan had broken into her room. Someone who'd gotten away scott-free. Someone that maybe held Zoey's still-stolen diary instead of _giving it back_ \- She hurriedly reigned in her temper and tendrils of magic that writhed with it, leaving that train of thought for another time. Zoey instead felt another bite of apprehension as she thought of another event her cousin may have been the culprit behind. "Were you the Ravenclaw who attacked Lorcan?"

Jon met her with a deadpan and almost disappointed look. "Please, Zoey. I would never stoop so low. And if I did, he would be a smear on the wall."

How she wished that was a joke, but it was true. As powerful as Jon's magic was it defaulted to one setting- full throttle, especially when he was upset. Lorcan or any other unsuspecting prey would be lucky to be a smear.

"I'm afraid that was merely a fortunate turn of events. The entire school gets in a fight with itself and your indiscretion is entirely forgotten." Jon finished with content, nodding at what he considered a neat little package to the entire ordeal.

Zoey felt a rolling sensation in her gut, and couldn't separate her mental unease from her unsteady magic as she looked at Jon from head to toe. He had changed in the last four years.

The most obvious change, of course, had been his sudden development of magic. Jonovan Malam Orion had been born as magical as a rock. It still baffled the Ministry how the completely typical muggle, after sleeping almost a week in the hospital, had woken up and- understandably confused as to how he'd gotten there- released a force of magic so strong he'd broken every window on the whole floor.

Then, in a flash of fear at the imminent danger he didn't _know_ he himself had caused, Jon's emotions had fueled his magic to larger and larger wandless explosions. The destruction had only stopped after he'd passed out with exhaustion.

He'd been a danger to himself, his environment, and most important to the Ministry, Jonovan had been a threat to the Statute of Secrecy. So Jon been extracted from the hospital in the midst of the chaos, and the muggles chalked up the event to a hate crime. Her cousin had then spent almost four years under disturbingly close scrutiny as the Ministry tracked his magic. They kept records on its unusual tendencies, how it was different from normal parameters and pondered if it were not only reproducible, but reversible. So far progress hadn't been made on either front.

While the Unspeakable Researchers had studied the very essence of the magic that inhabited him, Zoey had spent the time watching over her cousin. Zoey had attended every one of his lessons to gain control over himself. Zoey had made sure to make him laugh at least once a day through the frustration and anger that had threatened to consume him. Zoey had gotten her letter to Hogwarts a year later, and then dismissed it, because going to the famous school would have meant leaving Jon alone to struggle through an event that was more her fault than his.

That left Zoey as the only person to see the changes that had undergone not 'Jonovan Orion, the now-magical muggle' but 'Jon, her best-friend-and-practical-brother'. It had been painful to see her competent, self-assured cousin shot down by what had happened. See Jon insecure and scared of himself, of seriously injuring someone or even Zoey. His confidence had only returned with training and time, but then it kept growing. Inflating higher and stronger and backed by the power he'd never before dreamed of having, power stronger than some of the Ministry's Unspeakables.

And all that was without a wand. The Ministry had assumed that no wand would ever accept him because of his muggle origin, but considering the strength of Jon's powers he truly didn't need one. In time, Zoey had seen the magic going more and more to his head.

She twisted in her seat, wondering if his continuing character change really was Jon drunk on literal power or if it was more the result of what had basically equated captivity when the Ministry first started 'testing' him. The Minist- _er_ of Magic, himself, Zoethia Malam and her cousin had grown to like. She regarded him as a sort of an estranged uncle. The Minist- _ry_ of Magic? Both Malams would happily live without.

"Zoey?" Jon's worried voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Something wrong?"

Where to start? Her revelation left her hesitant on what information she could trust him with. On what information she could trust him to be _himself_ with. "Do-" she wet her lips. "Do you think you've changed in the last four years, Jon?"

He stiffened and glanced toward the door, even though it was closed and sealed and covered in silencing charms and Zoey had spoken intentionally vague in a way that only he would understand. See? Paranoid. Something Jon didn't used to be.

"I think that would be rather inevitable." He said gruffly, sipping the last of the coffee.

"...That scares me." Zoey admitted softly, and hurried to had "Not _you,_ Jon, the actual change bit."

The tension that had snapped into his shoulders relaxed. "Oh?" Jon asked with distraction. "Why's that?"

"Because I'm starting to think that your magic and mine are the same."

There was a sound of cracking porcelain as Jon's claws grew suddenly and without warning, easily piercing the mug he'd been drinking from and causing it to shatter. He cursed sharply at his mistake, cracking his knuckles as he morphed his hands back to normal. "Don't joke about such things, Zoey."

"You know I wouldn't." She reached for her bracelet subconsciously.

"Then try seeing reason." Jon scolded as he picked up the broken pieces. "We have both been under the eyes of the Ministry for four years. They practically kept breathing records on me. And you were right there for most of it. Do you honestly think you thought of something a team of magical experts didn't?"

"Yes." Zoey said simply. "As you love pointing out, Jon, wizards are notoriously bad at deductive reasoning. And compared to you- a _muggle_ that could suddenly do magic- who would notice a few anomalies in an untrained little girl?"

Rasputin cooed comfortingly at her disparaging tone, leaning up against her shoe.

Jon stood straight and put the pieces of the broken mug on the table, fitting it back together with controlled motions. Zoey absently noticed a coffee stain on his pajamas. "All right then- what makes you think our magic is alike?"

"For starters," Zoey fingered the dagger charm again. "Neither of us can use wands."

"But don't you have-?"

"Zelina's. I snuck it out of her stuff at Mungo's. I thought it would work well enough, so I told Rex that it was in the batch Ollivander sent in."

He frowned. "And conveniently forgot to tell me you've been using your mother's wand instead of your own."

Hypocrite. Being sensitive over that when he'd just admitted to puppeteering the entire school. Zoey decided not to respond, instead resuming to share her logic.

"Next," She held a strand of her hair out, which had changed from rainbow to a determined black when he'd touched her shoulder earlier. "Our magic mixes too well to dismiss as just 'good luck'."

"We're family." Jon quoted the reason that every Ministry expert had used to explain the phenomenon of a metamorphmagi subconsciously transfiguring someone other than themself. Then he added "I trust you."

"And that makes sense- within the parameters of our first explorations." Zoey agreed. "But not everywhere else. If that was all it took, Aunt Mary should turn blond every time you hug her."

His eyebrows drew together and he had to acknowledge her point. His changing of Zoey's hair color was completely involuntary and based on one of their emotions, whoever's feeling was stronger at the point of contact. Angry, excited, proud became red, electric blue, silver. When one of them was happy, her hair became gold. If a family bond and trust was all it took for him to change someone, then he _should_ have the same effect on his parents' appearances as well. But he didn't. Zoey was right- it had to be related her magic as well as his.

"And- and last friday, in the Great Hall," Zoey took a deep breath with the most definitive piece of evidence. "When I got really mad at Rose… I grew claws."

Jon stopped fixing the mug and sat back down heavily, steepling his fingers over the ridge of his nose. He just looked at her for a moment, part of him probably entertaining a hope that this was still a terrible joke on her part. "Are you sure?"

"They were purple."

Her 'evidence' drew an exhausted laugh from him. "Purple. Of course." He took a meditative breath. "We can't tell Kingsley."

"Obviously." Zoey agreed immediately. While they both trusted Kingsley Shacklebolt, while they had nicknamed him 'Rex', while the man himself had made it a personal mission to look after their well being, neither her nor Jonovan would dare let the Ministry and its Department of Mysteries catch wind of another magical anomaly.

"This explains your grades, then." Jonovan mused, obviously making the correlation between her high and low marks to each class's dependency on wandwork. "That's a problem- we can't have the teachers noticing the same and reporting anything to McGonagall. She could turn around and tell Kingsley."

"Or- she might help? I mean, this is a school of magic. Maybe she'd…" Zoey trailed off as she saw his expression, once again reminded of her recent ordeal in Salazar's Chamber. His face mirrored the statue's in this moment and Zoey knew: Jon wouldn't take the slightest chance. "...or not."

This was a new secret for two of them to keep. Another one to add to a teeming pile. Zoey felt the weight of it settle upon her in yet another layer of vulnerability that had to be hidden and dismissed in conversation but always, always kept in mind and firmly defended. So many of her words and decisions were dictated by such constrictions Zoey wondered if any of her own initiative was left.

She hugged her arms to her chest, suddenly chilly. "What are we going to do?"

"...we are going to be very, very, careful." Jonovan said as much to himself as to her. "Give me some time to take this in. If you are right… I'm not certain what will come next. We need to make sure nobody else notices anything, so let's focus on that step first. We'll start some experiments as well- compare my magic more directly with yours."

"Without anyone noticing?" She said doubtfully, then suggested "Maybe we should save that for Christmas, when most of the students are gone."

"Obviously." He echoed her earlier tone, lowering his hands from their steepled position as he raised a wary eyebrow and joked "Was there any other deep contemplations you wanted to blindside me with?"

"No, no, not today." Zoey smiled even as a part of her squirmed beneath his good instincts. "That can wait for tomorrow."

Clearly thinking she was jesting in return, he rolled his eyes and flicked her forehead. She stuck her tongue out at him in response. Jon grumbled something under his breath about 'impossible little girl', and she surprised him by jumping forward and hugging him. Still complaining, Jon shoved bodily her off of his person.

Despite the childish antics Zoey looked up to see that her hair had turned not gold but white. Pure white- Fear. That emotion was probably high in both of them right now… Zoey gave him another hug. "I'll be careful."

"You better be." He warned with a slight wobble to his voice.

Rasputin stopped nibbling their shoelaces and climbed up Zoey's shoulder instead, nosing her cheek. She stroked his spines fondly. "You gonna watch over me too, Razmanian devil?"

He sneezed, and both humans in the room smiled. Then Jon looked up at the clock and his mouth turned down. "You'll miss the last of dinner if you stay any longer."

"I can stop by the kitchens later." Zoey waved the problem off dismissively.

"All right- _I'll_ miss dinner if you stay any longer." He'd been napping, after all. Jon got to his feet, waving his hand to change his pajamas into a set of fresh faculty robes, coffee-stain free.

Zoey tilted her head, struck with a sudden curiosity. "So- Jon- do you still wash your clothes? I mean, I know you can transfigure them into new stuff. And you do that a lot. Does that mean you clean it with every shift? Doing that should make your clothes puff out the old dust, though… Or does the old dirt and stuff actually become part of the new clothes? If that's the case, could they ever really be clean again?"

"Get out." The History Assistant demanded, but the corner of his lips twitched.

"Fiiine." She sighed theatrically, moving intentionally slow "But you totally just want me to leave so you don't have to answer."

 _"OUT."_

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Up. Up. Up." Melissa kept repeating the word to herself even though they'd finished tutoring a long time ago, frowning unhappily at the feather she still held. It still hadn't so much as twitched from her magic. "She made it sound so easy."

Scorpius Malfoy raised an eyebrow but didn't turn to look at her, instead focusing on the dungeon corridors they were traveling. "It is." Though he didn't use that particular method, small levitations such as that were relatively simple for experienced spell users. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy could manipulate something as insignificant as a feather with barely a thought.

"But it shouldn't be. Not for Malam," Melissa Goyle said bitterly, folding her arms. "You _said_ she's even worse than I am."

"I did."

"But she did it on her first try, making me look completely incompetent!"

"Quite so."

"Are you going to use more than two syllables anytime soon?" Melissa channeled her inner Goyle and tried to disapprovingly look down her nose at him- an entirely unfitting action for the girl, as she was shorter than the other Pureblood and her nose was too wide for it to properly sharpen her gaze.

Scorpius's grey gaze met her from the corner of his own eye- a much more appropriate look, due to his height and the harsh angles of his face. He waited for her to break their mutual gaze first, making sure she knew it was always _his_ decision to elaborate at any point and not a reaction to any begging disguised as threats.

She held her ground for a respectable time before finally looking away, stepping through the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Melissa immediately went to join Zambini on the couch, then paused and glanced at Malfoy before taking care to sit without contact. Zambini, for his part, nodded a mute hello and looked studiously at his homework instead of meeting anyone's gaze.

Really, the two of them were being quite blatant about their recently discovered mutual feelings.

Scorpius decided not to point out the flaws in their secretive efforts. It was much more useful to hold on to that information, know it for future reference in case the two decide to deceive him on subjects of greater importance. Instead he let them believe they had succeeded and waved to Priscilla and Nott, wanting them over.

It took a moment for the group to gather, and when they did they looked at Scorpius expectantly. Though he and Priscilla were undoubtedly the leaders of their gang, the two didn't actively collect their peers without purpose.

Wordlessly, Scorpius reached into his bag and pulled out the pass he'd received by owl just that morning. A pass into the Restricted Section, with the book name instead filled by McGonagall's own signature to signify that he was free to peruse whatever he wished.

"UnRestricted," Priscilla Parkinson whispered in shock, her fingers twitching with obvious greed to have such a pass herself. There were many subjects and spells in the limited library section that she'd _always_ wanted to know more about, and Scorpius knew it. The two Purebloods held each other's gaze and Scorpius deduced that sometime in the near future, they were going to barter on what books he would get her for what services.

"Took you long enough."

Were he not a Malfoy, Scorpius would have bristled as the insinuation of incompetency. As it was, he redirected Zambini's frustration. "And let's not take any longer." He nodded his head to the door of the common room. "Library's open for another few hours."

"What- we're going _now?"_ He asked in shock, glancing at Melissa. "But- I was going to-"

"Have something better to do, then?" Nott asked with a small challenge to his tone, and Scorpius opened the possibility that Nott was also aware of the change in the lovebird's relationship.

"No!" Melissa practically squeaked, jumping to her feet. "No, we're good."

Zambini's face clouded over in obvious frustration, but he got up as well. "Fine. We'll save our usual table."

He grabbed Melissa's hand as he went, pulling her ahead of their peers. Her voice- not nearly as quiet as she was obviously aiming for- floated back to the other three Slytherins. _"We're not supposed to hold hands!"_

They heard Zambini say back stubbornly _"Oh yes we are."_

Priscilla's face softened into a small, true smile. "Ah, young love."

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy looked up to the ceiling to gather his strength. He would never understand girls. They took a bit more time to gather what they needed- parchment and quills and their old notes from previous times researching- before leaving themselves.

"Wait wait wait-" Nott held up a hand, looking at the clock. "Let's give them a bit of time to settle in…"

"Settle in." Priscilla repeated blandly, raising a thin eyebrow.

"To you know, get cozy." He waggled his eyebrows, "Then walk in and see them jump like they'd been pixie-bit."

"... you are a special kind of cruel, Marcellous Nott." Priscilla commented, then her eyes narrowed. "Why don't you go on ahead and keep watch in case we miss the perfect moment?"

Recognising the dismissal and more than willing to follow the suggestion, Nott hurried ahead.

Priscilla and Scorpius were left alone as they traveled a more leisurely pace through the dungeon halls. While Scorpius would normally have let someone who so obviously wanted a private conversation start their interaction, to put them in the mindset of being below him, he did not do so here. Not only did Priscilla's patience rival his own, but Scorpius considered her too much an equal to use the subtle manipulation.

Besides, as a Parkinson, she probably would have known what he was doing anyways.

"You did well at the fight." He said mildly instead, grinning at the memory of her showdown with the Head Girl.

If Scorpius hadn't been watching closely he would have missed the twitch at her lips and the small rise of her chin, a combination of pride and satisfaction. "You missed the best part, Malfoy. I took on James."

He'd heard, and oh did he ever despise Albus Potter for taking that spectacle away from him. It was mortifying to imagine himself unconscious not ten feet away from James Sirius Potter being utterly defeated in front of his entire House. Were he not a Malfoy, Scorpius Hyperion might be tempted to describe the injured state of Potter's behind with a curse word, but as it was he far more eloquent even in the confines of his own mind. Though if someone else mentioned first that Potter had gotten his arse kicked, Scorpius wouldn't hesitate to agree.

"You did well yourself." Priscilla commented thoughtfully, her grey-green eyes looking Scorpius over. "You're a very natural leader and have a wonderful grasp of strategy."

Thanking her would imply that his skill needed her validation, so instead he raised an eyebrow and returned "As you already knew."

Her lips twitched and she nodded, no doubt remembering their hours of chess and Pureblood upbringing. Then her eyes dropped and she looked ahead, a small frown tugging at her usual impassive expression. "If only you were a few years younger."

"What?" Scorpius asked blandly.

"It would make things much simpler." Priscilla elaborated. "I'm graduating next year, and you two years after, and that'll leave a lot of us without protection."

He knew she wasn't talking about Slytherin House. No, proud of her House as she was, Priscilla wasn't _protective_ of it. She only raised a hand in the defense of a select few.

Scorpius thought of Zambini's little sister and the Avery kid who'd just come to Hogwarts, and for the first time realised that they would have three years of schooling without himself, Nott, or Priscilla to look after them.

That was… disconcerting. Not only would his younger peers potentially be leaderless, their dwindled numbers would leave them vulnerable as well.

Equally troubling was the fact that Scorpius had not considered Hogwarts after his graduation. A poor foresight on his part, the Malfoy chided himself for not having a concrete strategy already in place. "I'll make sure the three of them will be ready when the time comes." He swore, even as the challenge seemed daunting. Marianngela Zambini and Marcel Avery were barely first years, after all. And would only be in their 3rd when he graduated. Melissa… well, her skills had obviously been a challenge all year long.

"Four of them." Priscilla corrected, after making a quick scan around to ensure that they were alone in the hall. "My brother… next year, he'll be coming here. Courtesy of my mother."

Her tone left no question as to the sour nature of that relationship. Pansy Parkinson was a terrible mother to her children, and as the eldest sibling Priscilla was the one that had to pick up the slack.

Scorpius didn't know the full details. In fact, he'd never spent more than five minutes in the presence of either of Priscilla's two younger siblings. Most of what he knew came from private conversations between his own parents, overheard in the late of night. So while he wasn't supposed to know that the Parkinson matriarch had been through not one but two failed marriages and was balancing a dwindling Gringotts account against a startling firewhiskey intake, he did.

He also knew that Priscilla was beyond protective of those two siblings. Her defensive protection over Melissa was nothing over even the idea of something happening to one of the two of them. And the idea of them here at Hogwarts- with all the prejudice from the Second War still running rampant, with the two of them in the crosshairs- without her around, was a recipe for something to happen.

"I thought," Scorpius approached the topic with the same care he'd use before a manticore, "that he would be going to Durmstrang, or Beauxbatons."

"So did I." She said, a true snarl seeping its way into her voice and onto her normally-passive features. "But apparently, the travel fees are 'simply too extravagant to even consider, Pris dear'."

She was not mocking nor openly mimicking her mother as she quoted her, but the small show of anger spoke volumes. Scorpius had no illusion that Priscilla felt anything but loathing for the woman.

He stayed quiet for a moment, giving her that time to collect herself, before he said "Four it is then." to let her know that he'd watch over her brother when she couldn't. While he could, at least.

A small bit of tension left her shoulders and she nodded, the wordless gratitude the most she would ever give. Then she straightened even more and looked at Scorpius from the corner of her eye. "So, Malfoy, since we're already heading to the Library, there is a book I've been hoping to peruse."

"Is that so?" He returned just as dryly, fingering the corners of his UnRestricted Pass to spin it slowly in his hand. "Is there a particular reason you're telling me about this?"

Let the bartering begin.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Albus Severus Potter was starting to regret leaving the Hospital Wing. He didn't think he could have stood Rose's company a minute longer, but as he wandered through the halls of Hogwarts… his hand really, _really_ hurt. The bone was fixed but soft tissues in his hands still ached, and likely would for a few days without further healing.

He gripped his forearm tightly as he continued to march around turn after turn without rhyme or reason, the repetitious fall of left-right-left-right soothing the violent storm of emotions in his mind. The pressure only helped the pain a little bit, and he was seriously debating whether he wanted risk going back for that potion Healer Prin was supposed to get him. The positives was that he would have one less thing weighing down on his mind. The risk was that Rose might be waiting for him when he got there.

...he probably wasn't going to sleep much tonight anyways, so he decided to ditch the healing, no matter how tempting.

Besides, Albus looked around the empty hall he'd found himself in, he wasn't quite sure where he was anyways. He should have paid more attention- he hadn't gotten lost in the winding paths of Hogwarts since Second Year. He turned on the spot, wondering if he should walk back the way he'd came.

"Al? What are you doing?"

He jumped about three feet in the air, his hand reaching for the pocket he usually kept his wand in but coming back empty. "Who- who said that?"

"Up here."

He tilted his head up to a high window, surprised to see someone curled up comfortably on the thin ledge as though the fifteen-foot high perch was a hammock. With the back-light he couldn't see the face, especially since their hood was up.

There weren't many people who actually used the headgear of Hogwart's mandatory uniform, however. And the only one of them who'd greet him with such familiarity was- "Zoey?"

"That's my name." She had a grin in her voice, a lock of albino white hair catching the setting sunlight before the girl started climbing down a suit of armor.

Albus looked between her and the strange place she'd been lounging in. "What were you doing up there?"

"Thinking." Zoey said, dropping the last few feet to land on three limbs. She pushed the blue-lined hood back and smiled at him, dusting off her knees. "I never think in the same place twice. I need a new spot to analyze every new problem. Well, not 'need' per say, but definitely prefer. Otherwise I find myself going down the exact same thought processes. New place, new mindset. I know it sounds weird- probably more placebo than anything else, but it if it works it works, right?"

"Right." he repeated, even though he'd barely caught the gist of her rapid-fire explanation. Albus started to offer her a hand to her feet, but hissed in pain. He'd forgotten it was hurt. Her eyes immediately settled on the injured appendage, and she took it with a gentle touch. She kept her grip up by his elbow so it wouldn't aggravate the swelling.

"Did you- Albus did you _punch_ someone?" She asked in shock, her head bobbing to look at his injury from other angles.

Al's jaw dropped. "You can tell by looking?"

"...I used to spend a decent amount of time in the nurse's office." Zoey said somewhat reluctantly, then her eyes flitted up to his. "Who did you punch?"

Her inquiry snapped Albus out of his internal reflection on the unusual color of her hair. It had only been white before at the Sorting Ceremony, and Albus found that very interesting, but not as important as figuring out how to answer. He wasn't sure _'oh, my family likes to have secret meetings to talk about stuff- like, you know, YOU, and during said meeting my annoying brother was being very rude and also stubborn about hating YOU and I didn't like that because by the way, I LIKE YOU'_ was a good path for this conversation to take.

Fortunately, the Ravenclaw transfer had been rambling into her usual follow up questions during his internal panic. "... punch them? Did they deserve it? This looks pretty swollen, you might have cracked a bone… how long ago did this punch occur?"

Ah, there was the out he was looking for. "I already went to the Healer, he mended it up. Now I just have to wait for the swelling to go down."

"... isn't there a potion for that? There should be. Feels like there's a potion for everything."

"There is," he agreed and puffed out his chest in a typical 'I'm-so-tough' pose. Belatedly he realized that it probably didn't work well on his thin frame, but didn't back down. "But I don't need it. It's not so ba- _aha_ -ad."

His voice cracked with a high squeak in the middle of the word when he waved his hand to make his point but only undermined himself completely. Ow.

Zoey chuckled lightly, the sound more supportive than mocking as she nodded. "Bad or not, there's no need to put yourself through unnecessary… discomfort. Not when there's literally a magic fix-it button."

His Weasley-Potter stubbornness reared its head. "Muggles heal all the time without magic."

"Muggles have medicine," Zoey chided, taking his hand in both of hers again. Her eyes were particularly vibrant as the sunlight faded, almost looking like they were flashing a different color altogether. Albus assumed it was the contrast from her colorless hair. "Advil, morphine, painkillers and stuff. Not that they actually 'kill' the pain itself, mind, they just make it so your brain doesn't register your nerves telling you something's wrong."

Albus paled even further. "That doesn't sound very good."

"Mm." She hummed in mild agreement. She kept her eyes downturned, almost glowing in their intensity. "Makes for a better night's sleep, though. They don't have the luxury of instantly healing their bones. Imagine this much pain for a month instead of a night."

That… sounded rather terrible. Especially if he remembered how bad his injury had throbbed before Prin had healed the 'broken head' of the 'dital metatarpal'. Albus hadn't even known bones had heads, or that they could hurt him that much. If he'd had to heal through non-magic means… yeah, he probably would have broken his recent conviction to stop being a crybaby.

During his thought process Zoey had led him to sit on one of the benches lining the empty hall, her hands gently massaging above his swollen knuckles. Her fingers were a welcome chill against the heated injury and he almost groaned with relief.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Zoey asked after a few more moments. Her curious tone was softer than usual, an invitation instead of demand.

"Dunno," Albus said honestly. "I mean… it's complicated."

This time Zoey was silent, though her hands didn't stop massaging his injury.

And that- that right there- that was part of what he liked about her. She was so in tune with the world around her. As boisterous and energetic as Zoethia Malam could be, she didn't drag people along to that pace. She just enjoyed being herself. And she didn't pressure him into being anything different. His family would be literally climbing all over him in their desperation to know every detail of the situation. And Albus knew if Zoey had taken the same approach, he would have clammed up, hummed an excuse or two. Instead she was respecting his decision in this. Her calm inquiry was allowing him to feel the same, enough so that he said "I punched my brother."

Zoey's eyes snapped up in shock, blinking owlishly at him.

He cringed, cursing his mouth. He was not supposed to say that. _That_ was one of the things that could lead to awkward conversation. He _was not_ supposed to say that-!

"Did he deserve it?"

"Yes." He immediately assured, his fists starting to clench again in anger. He stopped only after his swollen joints throbbed in complaint. _"Yes,_ for a thousand and one reasons."

"I'm sorry." she said, and for a moment he worried she had guessed that she was part of the conflict. Then she continued "It's- not fun when family argues."

"Happens all the time." Albus confessed ruefully, trusting she wouldn't run to the Daily Prophet about it. "You should see our family holidays. Half the time half of us aren't talking to each other. And in a house of nineteen people- twenty-one when the Scamander twins are over- that gets pretty tiring."

Her green eyes bulged at the impressive count of all his cousins and aunt and uncles. "How do you all _fit?"_ She eventually asked in complete bewilderment. "Do ya'll rent a mansion? Or just have cuddle-piles in the living room? Oh my gosh- how bad do the bathroom wars get?"

He laughed, the sound feeling wonderful in his chest. "Magic, of course. Though my house is pretty decently sized to begin with. We sleep three or four kids to a room, and bathrooms are first-come first-serve." He paused, then admitted in faux-horror. "If we didn't have pool, I don't wanna know how bad the lack of showers could get."

Zoey started laughing too, her smile almost breaking her face. "Sounds exciting."

"Yeah…" he blinked, the admission hurting a bit. "Yeah, they are. My family is… weird. We don't- we practically live on another world, I get that. Between Dad's fame and the paparazzi that hounds us we really don't do much besides spend time with each other. Though, it didn't bother me growing up. It's not like we were _isolated_ as kids, because there were just so many of us. It was impossible to be lonely about it, you know?"

"...Maybe?" Her honesty was refreshing. "My family is really small, but… I think get it. For a long time I felt like I didn't need anyone but them either."

"Exactly. Right. And then the older cousins started going to Hogwarts, and… well, things changed. People took fresh interest in us, we got a _celebrity nickname-"_

"Legacies?"

"Hate that title. So much." He groaned, swiping his good hand through his unruly hair. "But it stuck, and every year- _every_ time one of came to Hogwarts, they'd post this article trying to predict our Houses. And they did that by sticking their noses into everything about us, which is just- just…"

"Just like that dumb Sorting Hat." Zoey offered spitefully, "Horribly invasive."

Albus blinked a bit in surprise, but nodded. "Yeah. It- it really sucked. But it wasn't as bad as it could have been. James…"

How had he even started talking about all of this? Bitterness rose back up again, finding its way out with his words. "He's this, this hopeless attention hog. Ever since we were little, whatever happened, you name it- vacations, family pictures, paparazzi… he is always putting himself front and center. Which, if I'm honest, is usually a bit of a relief. I don't like attention myself, and his- antics?- made things a lot easier for me and Lily. I used to think that it was intentional. That James acted larger than life, dramatized, pulled all the attention so, so there'd be less rumors and speculation about the two of us. Big brother looking out for us, you know?"

The Ravenclaw frowned at the tone in his voice. "And now? What makes you doubt he was looking after you?"

He glared down at their hands, remembering the vibrating impact of his fist against James's jaw. "I don't know. Even if it was for us once upon a time, it's not anymore. He likes being the center of attention too much. Craves it like a baby."

"Tears and everything?"

Snorting was far from attractive, but Albus couldn't stop the sound at the idea of James in tears. "As if. I haven't seen him cry in years. Probably thinks it'd ruin his image."

Zoey waited to see if he'd elaborate, then shrugged. "That definitely does sound pretty annoying."

He nodded vehemently, feeling absolute _loathing_ for that part of his brother. In all his life, he doubted he'd ever meet another person as vain, conceited, and completely arrogant as James. And Merlin help if that person ever crossed him, because if James wasn't his brother he would have- he would…

Albus probably wouldn't even care, he realized with a sinking sensation. If he wasn't related to James by blood he'd wash his hands of the older boy, dismiss him as another one of the many bad people who marred the world. But… but he'd grown up with James. He knew the good in his brother as intimately as his faults. James was brave, a true Gryffindor and as fiercely protective of his family as he was of himself. Even if his actions were misguided, Albus still loved his brother. That was why he hadn't hesitated to protect him during the the fight. And why Albus knew he'd do it again, if the situation came up.

James, not his father, had been Albus's childhood hero. James, not his mother, had been the one he'd gone to when nightmares woke him in the middle of the night. James, and no one else, had been the one he'd trusted with the Sorting Hat's words.

"...what was your mother like?" Albus asked softly.

Zoey tensed, her eyes searching his for a moment before she turned away from him. She stared instead at the tapestry across from them instead, her brow creased.

He felt sick with himself. Why, _why_ had he turned this conversation into a veritable regurgitation of his life problems? "Sorry. I just- you once said she was Slytherin…"

"She was." The Ravenclaw confirmed the fact, her eyes still facing the stitched Hogwarts emblem. "I- I never knew her well, to be honest. I was too young before… my Aunt and Uncle knew her better than I ever will. But- but they talked about her. I like to think I know her." she fingered the charm bracelet on her right wrist, the motion almost reverent.

"Zelina- that's her name, by the way. Zelina. Never let anyone but my dad call her 'Zel' or any other nickname. Zelina was a very, very strong woman." Her voice was an odd mix of respect and remorse as she spoke. Albus felt a bit guilty about bringing up such complicated emotions in her but found himself hanging on her every word. "She worked Search and Rescue in Glauchestershire, and was a PI on the side."

"A what?"

"Private Investigator." Zoey hurriedly explained. "She'd get paid to investigate things like crimes or do background checks on people. Lost jewelry, cheating spouses… sometimes she'd go after people who skipped bail."

Albus still didn't understand what that would entail, but he couldn't, seeing as it was a very muggle-oriented profession. He waved away her attempt to explain in further detail, wanting to stay on topic. "Suffice to say that it was a complicated job?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Zelina was really good at it, too. Even without magic, though I think she probably used that more than she let on." She took a slow breath in, and released it even slower. "That's how she met my dad. He was a cop. Muggle Auror? And she kept crossing paths with him. 'Stubbornest woman he ever met', apparently. Aunt Mary was the one who set them up on their first date."

"Your Aunt?"

"My dad's big sister. Apparently, both my parents were too dense to notice how much they liked the other and she decided to give them a push."

That sounded like something Lily would do too. Or were all sisters like that?

"She was really resourceful. Had to be. Zelina was- she was running from something. I think it was the war, but I never… really got to ask. Can you imagine, though? A witch, hiding herself from everyone and trying to scrounge out a living without knowing how anything in the muggle world worked? She must have been _amazing_ at thinking on her feet. But… more than anything else, I'd have to say she was beyond capable."

"How do you figure?" Albus breathed, mesmerised by the idea of a woman he'd never met.

"Zelina was the sort who could wake up in a room of strangers- with absolutely no idea of where she is, what she's doing there, or what they want- and in just a few seconds, make you believe that she is the one who calls the shots. She… Zelina is a woman who sorts through absolute chaos, and if there isn't one already, she _makes_ a safe place to stand. And yes, she's a Slytherin. It's the part of her that's so strong. What makes her confident."

He was distantly aware of her change of tense, but was more curious about the last part. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" Zoey finally looked back at him, a small smile on her face. "That's what pride is all about, isn't it? An unshakable confidence in yourself and your own capabilities. To be able to carry themself through anything when they have to is what makes a good Slytherin."

Albus felt his mind immediately balk at the idea of a 'good' Slytherin, and shook his head. "That's not… that's not what a Slytherin is."

"Isn't it?" The Ravenclaw challenged, a fresh gleam in her eye. "And what _is_ a Slytherin? What's a Gryffindor? More importantly- what's the difference?"

Albus blinked and this time he was the one to look away. "Slytherin's are greedy and vain tricksters who only look out for their own benefit. Gryffindors are noble, brave people who protect those that need the help."

"You're echoing."

"What?"

"Echoing." Zoey repeated bluntly. "What you're saying- it's something someone else told you once upon a time, am I right? And it stuck. It's not an opinion you've founded on your own experiences. I mean seriously- you didn't even refer to Slytherins as _people._ That's not like you..."

His mouth opened and closed a few times, realizing that she was right. That James's voice had echoed in his mind along with the words that had come out of his mouth. James- and his father, and aunt and Uncle Ron- their words ran as strongly through his thoughts as his own. Albus ran his hands through his hair as he realized that while Zoey was right, she was also wrong. Very, very wrong. Albus Potter accepted that he 'echoed', as she called it, a lot of things. He supported the assertions of his family as fact with little thought… took their sides against the world. Vaguely he had another epiphany- if he didn't know Zoey, if she'd been a faceless name that James had built a grudge against, he wouldn't have gotten as upset.

He would have been disappointed, sure. He would have complained and griped, obviously. The same way he had about James stealing Scorpius's wand. But Albus would never, _ever_ have openly confronted his brother for the sake of someone he didn't personally like.

"...Al? Albus?" It took a hand waving in front of his face for him to realize she was trying to get his attention. She must have continued talking again, only this time his internal reflection had lasted longer than her words and Zoey had noticed. "You okay?"

"I- yeah, I'm okay. Just- just having an existential crisis over here." He leaned back on the stone wall, grateful for the chill.

Zoey hummed and seemed to take that as permission for her to continue talking. "The whole House thing is just- kinda weird to me, you know? I get the four elements allusion that they have- very Avatar Aang there- but the whole personality thing…? I don't see where that big divide comes from. Where's the huge jump between Slytherin cunning and Ravenclaw wit? Learning to Hufflepuff dedication? Loyalty to Gryffindor chivalry? Nobility to pride?"

As she spoke Zoey gestured to the Hogwarts Crest on the tapestry she'd been staring at before, making a circle between the House Mascots and pausing with each of their traits. Albus followed the motion as her words washed over him like a cleansing wind.

"How are they supposed to be so different? Why must they also be exclusive? Cuz they're not, I've seen they're not. Gryffindors can be selfish- anyone can, from one moment to the next. Ravenclaws can have lotsa bravery when supporting our theories, and a whole lot of nerve. Hufflepuffs… okay, I'll admit, I've yet to meet a 'Puff that _isn't_ the epitome of determined loyalty, but I'm sure it's possible!" They shared a chuckle at that. "And- Slytherins can be loyal, and patient. Very."

Something about her gaze turned distant, and Albus was left wondering if she was still thinking of her mother or if she'd started thinking of a different Slytherin paragon for her example. A certain blond, extremely attractive example of the Pureblooded variety.

"The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin." He confessed before he'd really thought it through. "It really, really wanted to. Spent six minutes trying to convince me, but I…" had refused to the point of near-tears, and only then had the Sorting Hat rescinded its decision. "...I was terrified of not being in the same House as my family. Which probably didn't help my argument. Crybaby asking to be in the House for bravery. Doesn't much matter if I'm honorable or daring, I'm a terrible Gryffindor. Sometimes- _sometimes,_ I wonder if I should have let it put me in Slytherin. At least then people'd be less surprised when I disappoint them." Albus felt his voice grow smaller and smaller as he spoke.

Zoey blinked rapidly, five or six times, then offered "I don't think you being in Slytherin would have been disappointing Albus. And it's not the fact that you're Gryffindor that makes us expect your best. It's just the fact that it's you."

Shock reverberated through him. Albus had always rejected the Slytherin-esque parts of himself even as he told himself that it didn't hold him back, that it didn't make him any worse. To hear Zoey not only support those parts of his personality but not think less of him threw Albus completely for a loop. He never could have expected it. He had… no idea how to respond.

The next thing to escape his throat started as a laugh of disbelief, of relieving tension he'd long since forgotten existed, and then- to his horror- turned to sobs. His eyes watered and blurred the Hogwarts crest they'd been staring at until the colors mixed and then small tears were running down his cheeks. Albus had been through such an emotional rollercoaster the past few hours- the past few days- that it all came crashing together until he didn't even know what he was feeling anymore. He had been through determination, frustration, confusion, disappointment… he had reached _real_ anger for the first time in his life and still felt stubborn guilt for how mean it had made him and just- just knew that whatever it was he was feeling now, it wasn't waiting for Albus to catch up before pulling him along.

He was such a crybaby. Albus put his face in his hand, trying to stifle the sound and hide all at the same time.

He felt rather than saw Zoey stiffen in shock, her hands flittering on the edge of his side. Reaching and pulling back only to reach and then pause before actually touching his shoulder as she asked "That wasn't supposed to, I- I am so sorry, I didn't- can I do anything? Do you want a hug or should I go?" With the last three words she started getting to her feet.

"Stay." In a moment of panic his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, the speed of his reflex showing what he wanted more than the word itself. Albus flushed with embarrassment but still asked "Please?"

His heart pounded for a long moment as he waited for her response. Then her small hand rested on his and he felt her settle back on the bench. "Sure." Zoey Malam said softly, not a whisper just… gentle. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Albus Potter smiled and rubbed his wet cheeks, confusingly grateful for his irrational moment of jealousy, because otherwise he wouldn't have risked telling Zoey. And wouldn't have known what it felt like to know that he wasn't judged over what a magic hat had said in his head years ago. His hand, which he'd just used to grab Zoey's, wasn't even hurting anymore. "Deal."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was many things. Large, confusing, busy, full… at this very moment, to the extreme disappointment of a certain mischievous being, Hogwarts was full of unhappy students.

Peeves the Poltergeist frowned as he came to this conclusion, watching students pass below him. They had all been unhappy for days now. Had been ever since that fun fight in the Great Hall. It was no good when Hogwarts students were UnHappy. Why? Because… because-

-because it was no fun to prank UnHappy people! The blue being pouted at the vase in his hand, tracing the many cracks with an opaque fingernail. UnHappy people did _not_ like pranks even more than happy people. Less than. More than? Peeves huffed and gave up on the grammar. UnHappy people were not fun. Period.

And Hogwarts students were unhappy all the time now! They hadn't been this morbid since Potter and Weasle and the Red Dopplegangers had all fought against Voldy Moldy.

Fun times… the poltergeist smiled inhumanly wide, his melancholy forgotten as he recalled the Mayhem he had wielded on the pink toad and then Severus Snapey. _With_ the full encouragement of all the students! That had been great. Really great. Oh, and Filtch! Peeves could never forget Filtch. The squib had been his favorite caretaker _ever._

Why, Peeves had always waged a one-ghost war against the caretakers of Hogwarts. Even more after Rancid Carp had set that nasty trap full of deadly weapons for him- but Peeves had shown him, he had! He'd broken that bell jar and used all those toys to play everywhere in Hogwarts!

For a war, however, his skirmishes with Caretakers had always been fairly easy. All he had to do was keep track of where their magic was, and he'd always be able to do whatever he wished without getting caught.

Unfortunately, all they had to do was wave a wand and most anything he'd done would vanish with magic. The stalemate was boring.

But oh, _oh_ , then Argy Filtch had arrived! A _Squib,_ and ooh how that had changed the game considerably. He had no magic to wave and repair things, he'd actually needed a broom- _a real broom!-_ or a mop to clean messes.

Peeves had quickly learned that he needed to go easy on this Caretaker, else he'd give in and miserably ask one of his magical peers to clean the mess for him. The Poltergeist quickly found the line of what Filtch would stubbornly fix himself, and took fresh glee dancing along it. He had been happy to know his mayhem lasted longer because of the man. Really, Peeves had been quite fond of Filtch.

He looked back down at the vase he was tapping a finger on. Peeves had knocked the antique pottery off its pedestal some oh twenty-eight years ago, using the noise to send Mrs. Norris the cat yowling for her master. Filtch had come running and- finding his precious familiar trapped in a suit of armor- had gone on a long rant about Peeves's impending banishment.

Hadn't happened of course. Peeves belonged to Hogwarts, he was goings nowheres, no matter what one or two hundred cranky old caretakers had wanted over the years. Instead, Peeves had watched with secret glee as the Squib gathered the broken pieces and painstakingly glued the vase back together by hand over weeks. Filtch had been so _happy_ to finish repairing it.

So, of course, Peeves had immediately stolen it. If Filtch ever had a bad day, Peeves had plans to break the vase again- that way, Filtch would be happy again by fixing it. Wouldn't that be nice? It made perfect sense, and the poltergeist had looked forward to it immensely.

But then Filtch had retired, and he wasn't here anymore, and that was sad because Peeves hadn't gotten to make Filtch happy with the vase again.

Filtchy had still been fun though. His face turned the most amusing shades of colors. Even better was that- during Filtch's time at Hogwarts- the Squib caretaker had _actually_ had the chance of catching the Poltergeist, because Peeves couldn't track the man!

There were always a half dozen magical aura's that the poltergeist could point unerringly to, knowing their exact compass direction and general distance from himself. Every creature's magic was unique, and it was an ancient but powerful enchantment he knew to be able to track a select few of them. Peeves knew where to find Bwue, because of course he kept watch on someone he liked, and Snottgrout, the house-elf that was Hogwarts's current Caretaker, and the Headmissus, because it was always good to keep track of Hogarts's Headmissuses and Headmisters, and of course the Hungry One, because… because…

Peeves frowned at where his thought had gone, resting his chin on the top of the vase as he tried to concentrate. He didn't remember why he tracked that one, only that he did. And that whenever HungryOne moved, it meant it was eating, gorging and Devouring, and that brought up… fear.

Fear was a scary thing for Peeves. Not scary because he remembered what it was about the Devourer that he feared, scary because he was scared. Peeves was a poltergeist, liberated from pain and hunger and sadness and all the miserable trappings of the livings mortals, and yet he feared the magic of that one. Feared and froze whenever he felt the movement, random babble spewing from his mouth as Peeves suffered through a maelstrom of fractured memories and feelings that rose and fell like phoenix from flames. He would drop whatever he was doing- even if it was a wonderfully perfect set of gobstones he'd had plans to roll down the moving stairs to watch chaos ensue- and careen through the halls to mark the occurrence in a dusty room that had been long forgotten by the rest of the Wizarding World. Peeves had no idea what instinct drove him to do so. Or perhaps he had no memory?

He had been to that room more often more frequently recently, he recalled, a bit shocked by the ease of the memory. Peeves blinked and had a double shock as he realised he was thinking serious. He was never thinking serious. How had he become serious?

Ah yes- the vase. He had grabbed the vase from its hiding spot because he'd wanted to try and see if it could make Snottgrout happy too. Speaking of Snottgrout, she was quickly becoming a favorite of his as well. The House-elf's ability to apparrate within Hogwarts was a fresh challenge that Peeves hadn't never faced before! Or, didn't remember.

He hesitated with the vase balanced over his head, part of himself still stubbornly wanting to save it for Filtch. Reason piped in that Filtch wouldn't be coming back anytime ever, and started to add that maybe this plan wasn't going to-

"Snotty Grotty!" Peeves cried, and there was a crash of shattering porcelain as he rolled the vase along the carpet to knock into a display pedestal, the vase atop that one teetering over like a domino to knock into another, and another, repeating echoes of the first demolition.

 _"PEEVES!"_ The house-elf's voice echoed magically down the hall. _"IF THAT IS WHAT I THINK IT WAS-"_

Whoops, that didn't sound happy. It sounded decidedly UnHappy.

Oh well, the poltergeist cackled, it was still a great prank! He flipped and turned over in the air, bending down to look at Snotty Grotty through his ankles and blew a raspberry. Then he dropped up through the ceiling to make his hasty escape, turning invisible with barely a thought.

Hrm, what now, what now? Grotty would be busy for a while. She wouldn't be around to appreciate his pranks, and a good prank wasn't good if it went unappreciated.

Instead of continuing his mischief Peeves decided to check on Bwue. She had recently been unhappy too because of- something…- and only cheered up after finding the Secret Place under Hogwarts. It had been nice to see Saladzar as well, even if the man had called him Pev.

Pev. The name… it didn't feel _wrong_ to Peeves, maybe more incomplete.

Ever since he'd heard it Peeves had been haunted by that feeling, that there was something unfinished he was supposed to be completing. The insistent tugging in his mind pulling and jerking him around to no success, prompting the poltergeist to do action. Fruitless action, because he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He couldn't _remember._

Frustrated with the errant nature of his own mind, the poltergeist redoubled his decision to find Bwue. Her magic was a balm to his own and to his mind, and he found himself craving it like a cat to sunlight. So with barely a hesitations from the other parts of his fragmented mind, he reached for her magic.

In the process he felt that the Hungry One had grown stronger yet again, and shivered. Pev shivered again at the sensation of fear, then went to find Bwue.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 _Dear Professor McGonagall,_ _- **sc**_ ** _ratch-_**

 _Professor McGonagall,_ _- **sc**_ ** _ratch-_**

 _Headmistress Minerva McGonagall,_

No... Lysander Scamander scratched through the latest of his attempts to start his newest rough draft, taking a deep breath as he subtly chewed the inside of his lip. He was both intrigued and frustrated by how hard it was for him to find the right words. He knew almost every word and phrase of the english language and a smattering of other languages as well, having traveled quite a bit with his mother Luna over the summers. Yet his mind was in such a state that the information danced away from him.

None of this internal struggle showed on his features as he sat at his usual chair in Ravenclaw Tower, the parchment before him half-filled with variations of how to address his school's highest authority.

He tapped the extra ink off his quill so it wouldn't drip while he perused his own thoughts. Lysander knew quite well why he was unfocused at this moment. To put it simply, he was annoyed.

To view the complication currently occupying his mind in a more detailed frame, Lysander was still annoyed. He was annoyed because while he knew what he wished to do, he wasn't quite sure how to do it. His brown eyes, identical to his twin's, closed to the world as he organized his errant thoughts.

It was one thing to know that, as a Hogwarts Prefect, he reported directly to McGonagall. And objectively he was aware that it was entirely within his rights to seek an audience with her. Yet he was finding it appallingly difficult to do so.

Process of elimination had brought him here. Lysander did not have the spare time to wait outside her office, and he was uncomfortable with speaking to anyone below her position about some of the topics he wanted to address. Ergo direct mail by owl had been become his prefered method of communication.

Calmed by the reminder of his own rationality, Lysander found the first few lines come easily to him:

 _Headmistress McGonagall,_

 _In light of recent events, I'd like the chance to sit down and talk with you. I am aware that your time must be more strained than normal at this moment for obvious reasons, yet it is those very reasons that I wish to address myself.  
_ _A lot of the misevents that have occurred can be attributed to my family, my close friends, my fellow 'Legacies' as our classmates continue to call us. While I assure I have taken a personal approach in attempt to restrict any repetition of their misdeeds, I unfortunately report that I may not be entirely successful.  
_ _Additionally,_

… and there's where the sudden bout of inspiration stopped. Lysander left his quill where it was for a few moments, expecting his usual poetic writing to return, but to no avail. It was so much nicer to read than to write. Easier to critique than to create. And yet, easy did not mean simple in this instance. One poor turn of phrase and this letter could be construed as insubordination. Lysander let a lazy eye scan what he'd written then frowned, crossing out 'misevents' and replacing it with 'school disturbances'. The cramped words seemed to be mocking him.

It seemed that anything his family did caused a disturbance of some kind. Their presence was simply far too loud. From public events to quidditch games to holidays and vacations, Lorcan, James, Roxanne, and the rest of the Weasley offspring did everything in the biggest, loudest way possible.

Merlin, Lysander felt the corner of his mouth twitch to contain a grin, Roxanne couldn't even wake up from a comatose state in a calm fashion.

The Wizard Wheezes heir had been unconscious since the fight, recovering from the volley of spells that she had been struck by. Though Healer Prin had countered and cured every spell Roxanne had suffered, it was still quite the ordeal that the young witch had been through, and her body had spent a full three days recovering. Her brother, Fred II, had refused to leave her side throughout it, and Lorcan had been equally worried though he couldn't afford to miss his classes.

Lorcan'd persuaded his twin to check on her as well whenever possible, and so mere hours ago Lysander had walked into the Hospital Wing to the strange but not altogether unexpected sight of Roxanne Weasley in a fight.

"No!" Fred had been shouting, bodily pinning his sister to stop her from getting off the thin bed. "You can't get up!"

"Oh I most definitely can," she cried back, through her face had been flushed with lingering fatigue and she was breathing heavy. "You just need to get your heavy butt off of my-"

"-I am skinnier than you and you know it-"

"-true. A bowtruckle has more body mass than you, Freddy-"

He had squacked indignantly and gone back to the topic at hand "-Prin said not to let you to your feet until tomorrow!"

"What's so special about tomorrow?!" Roxanne had demanded, and something in her brother's face had the girl dropping her playful but determined smile in favor of a frown. "Fred? Fred what happens tomorrow?"

"Nothing."

"Fred-"

"The Hogwarts Express is making a special stop." He had told her reluctantly. "For you and James- you're both suspended until Christmas."

"What?" Roxanne had hardly seemed to be breathing. "For both of us?"

"... and, you might not be allowed to return after."

"You mean- expulsion?"

Lysander still wasn't sure why she was surprised. Their troublemaking antics had been headed in that direction for some time now, after all. Suspensions had become not frequent but standard after the Second War, particularly in Slytherin House after Professor Sybble had been hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. His parents had been surprised to hear that suspensions actually happened. In their day, not only had the original Fred and George Weasley wrecked their own brand of mayhem for years before leaving with a literal bang, but even Uncle Harry confessed that- after bodily harming a student by casting an untested spell- he himself had only received detentions.

Yet it was not the era before the Second War that they were living in, Lysander reflected. The Wizarding World had hardened even as it settled into peace, and McGonagall was no different. The Headmistress had a heavier hand than the Gryffindor Head of House from their parents' stories, and she encouraged all her faculty to the same. Even with Uncle Neville's fondness as a buffer for their detentions, it was bound to catch up to them eventually.

All in all, he couldn't quite muster true sympathy for Roxanne's plight. The news about James, however, had made him actively sigh with relief.

Lysander had noticed that James hadn't agreed to the stance of inactivity at the family meeting a few days ago. And so- after making sure Albus had been to the Healer for his hand- he'd immediately tracked the eldest Potter down at the quidditch pitch.

James had drilled himself to the point of exhaustion, and it was likely the only reason why Lysander successfully cut the other boy off on his way into the locker room. The two had looked at eachother for a moment, then James had started putting his broom away with professional care. "What do you want now?"

"Things finished rather abruptly in there." Lysander had said in an equally bland tone. There was a tightness in his chest and he lightly bit the inside of his cheek, uncomfortable. "I wanted to see where you stood."

"In the locker room." He'd dismissed the question, then turned to Lysander and folded his arms. After a moment he went on "I'm not going to toe some line you decided to make on your own, 'Sander, so you can save yourself the effort of trying to convince me."

He had been disappointed but not surprised. Going into the meeting Lysander had known exactly what his strategy to convince each Legacy had been. Because they were family, he'd been relatively confident he could convince everyone at the meeting to follow his suggestion. Lily and Albus and Hugo were usually on the side for passivity instead of action anyways, and he had hoped his twin Lorcan would listen to him if only because Lysander asked. Rose had always respected his skills and opinions as a Ravenclaw, Lysander knew, so she would be the quickest to agree with his logic. After that Roxanne wouldn't have been much of a problem, though it turned out that she hadn't made it anyways.

But James…?

James had always been their leader as they grew up. Mostly because of his unmatched charisma when situations arose, but also because the eldest Potter boy wouldn't have it any other way. Lysander could count on one hand the number of times he'd listened to anyone's objection to his decisions- unless that someone was his father, of course. Lysander was not The Chosen One, a Conqueror of Death or The Boy Who Lived, and therefore knew he had very little chance of persuading James to do anything.

He had known it, James knew it, and while someone else might might have let sleeping dragons lie Lysander was not one to shirk responsibility. He was a Prefect. And as a Prefect, he'd been growing increasingly uneasy with the persisting rogue actions of the Gryffindor before him. It was a conflict that had been building ever since he'd been appointed to the position last year, a subtle strain on their friendship.

Now that an event more monumental than a mere prank had arrived, Lysander found himself cursing his hesitation on every step until this moment. Perhaps if he'd chanced the meeting before the quidditch match, Roxanne and Lorcan wouldn't have been so active they sparked the fight. Perhaps if he had been harder on James when Lysander first became a Prefect, Ravenclaw Tower never would have been broken into. Perhaps… The possibilities were endless, and while it was staggering to consider them all Lysander could only face the conclusion that inactivity was a far greater burden than failure, and so he had set his jaw in stubbornness. "I won't let you."

"Let me what?" James had smirked in mild amusement, "You don't even know what I have planned."

"Knowing you, 'plan' is a very loose term." Lysander had mumbled, earning a dark glower for the comment, then pressed on. "Whether you're going after the people from the fight or still hounding Zoey, all you're going to do is make things worse."

"No. What I'm going to do is find the truth that nobody else is bothering to." Harry Potter's oldest son had folded his arms and looked away from a moment in rare embarrassment. "I'll admit- this didn't really start as a worry about what Zoethia Malam and that Assistant were up to. Originally, I wanted to discredit her because she knew that I'd stolen Malfoys' wand, and McGonagall wouldn't take too kindly if word reached her ear. But after digging around for something we _found_ something, and be mad at me all you want, it doesn't change the facts. Those two aren't here normally. That Assistant has stupid-strong magic and Malam's magic is strange in its own right. The Mauraders' Map never lies, and there has to be a reason the Minister of Magic knows them personally. I'm going to find out what reason it is. Whether you like it or not."

"You're a student, James. It's not your place to police the faculty. That's McGonagall's job." Lysander had pressed a finger to the bridge of his nose. "And having had numerous conversations with her over the course of the year, I believe I am more qualified to judge Zoey's character than yourself. I can assure that she's not up to anything nefarious."

James had just grinned, almost seeming pleased. "Then she'll have nothing to hide, will she?"

The illogic behind his actions was equally baffling and frustrating for the Ravenclaw, and though they'd argued until their throats were dry neither he nor James had persuaded the other to stray from their beliefs. Lysander had resigned himself to looking over his shoulder for James's next action, but perhaps a suspension would do what he couldn't. Perhaps it would make James Potter realize that even he had to face repercussions.

It was the best he could hope for, sadly. Lysander closed his eyes again, his quill moving. Additionally…

 _Additionally, I wish to share an opinion_ _- **sc**_ ** _ratch-_** _express my opinion_ _- **sc**_ ** _ratch-_** _thoughts regarding events that continue to occur in Hogwarts._

And here was the hardest part for him to address. As a Prefect he could lead his peers, but Lysander was still a student and had no grounds to question McGonagall or her actions. And yet, that is what the Ravenclaw found himself doing.

He had not been present for the fight in the Great Hall, but he'd seen the aftermath, and according to what he'd heard and seen before he left, the Head Boy and Girl had not handled things well. By many accounts they'd even contributed to the aggressive atmosphere. This, coupled with Wilkes' handling of the _Scandals_ article, her dismissing the resulting treatment of Zoey and the double invasion of the both the Howlers and the thieves in his House had shaken his confidence in the Head Girl's ability. He now questioned her leadership both under pressure and as a day-to-day mediator more than he ever had before.

Lysander Scamander was not equipped to mitigate emotional disquiet. It simply wasn't in his skillset. That was why he'd left that aspect of leadership to Wilkes, his fellow authority over Ravenclaw. Now he regretted that decision, both because of her actions and because it had left him ill-prepared to address his own House.

Ravenclaw House in the wake of the fight was too somber. They had been the only House not to stand as a unified force, and the only one to have been pressured into yielding completely. Not only was the pride of his blue-and-bronze companions shot, their division lingered with a running current of animosity trudging a deeper gap by the day.

Now the Tower was even quieter than normal for the most intellectual of Hogwarts' students, not a single debate or theory being aired out around the center fireplace. While quiet was coveted for productivity, this felt like the silence of the defeated. Of those unwilling to face another the storm.

Lysander he himself would rather not face yet another metaphorical storm. They were running out of metaphorical umbrellas.

He smirked contentedly. And Zoey said he was bad with allusions.

The expression quickly fell. He'd yet to speak with the multi-haired girl. Now that the family meeting was done there was no longer a reason for him to keep her at arms length. It was not often that Lysander enjoyed human companionship with his literature, and he found himself expecting a random question or five to be thrown his way any moment now. He therefore reached the conclusion that he was missing her company.

Lysander let his gaze flit over to her usual seat, and gave a slight jolt when he saw it was occupied. The small shock was laced with disappointment, because it clearly wasn't the person he'd hoped it would be.

Instead Sam Holt sat in her chair, leaning his elbows on his knees with his fingertips tapping together. He was looking at Lysander intently, and upon receiving attention his tapping only increased in frequency.

"Did you need something?" Lysander asked, fairly certain he knew the answer.

The DDC Member stilled his hands under his chin for a moment, then nodded. "I was hoping you'd come with me to see our Head of House."

"Naturally." The Ravenclaw Prefect immediately assured, but his eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What did you want to talk to her about?"

Sam was back to looking nervous, biting a lip before sighing and seeming to decide to just be forthcoming with it. He took a look around to make sure nobody else was listening before he confessed "I'm the person who attacked Lorcan."

… Well that was quite unexpected. Lysander stated just to be sure "You were the person that cast a jinx at Lorcan the morning before the fight."

"Yes." He confirmed, then sighed. He left his head hanging as he went on. "It was just- your twin _broke into_ our House, Scamander. He stole from my Housemate and newest clubmate. I couldn't- I _can't_ let that go, and when we saw him on his own it was just such a perfect opportunity we just had to take it-"

"We?" Lysander repeated, his eyes narrowing.

Sam's lips pressed thinly together. It seemed that while he was turning himself in, he was not outing whomever his partner-in-crime had been. Such loyalty was not truly a Ravenclaw trait, but Lysander could respect it all the same. Besides, investigating wasn't his job as a Prefect, reporting was.

"We'll meet with the faculty after dinner." He looked over the other boy for a moment with a frown. "But why did you come to me with this? You attacked my twin. You couldn't have been sure how I would respond."

For the first time a bit of guilt made it's way onto Sam's face as he started tapping his index fingers together again. "I… well, I trust you. To start, you always make it clear that you're twin's actions and views are not your own. And while you're not the most active Prefect Scamander, you've always respected the rules and chain of authority. It's very reassuring."

He stated all this as pure fact in the manner only a Ravenclaw could, and the truth of it settled something inside of Lysander. As he was taking that in, Sam went on to say:

"And, I realise that my action undoubtedly aggravated the situation. I knew it was a selfish action for personal recrimination, and I'd take the risk of being recognised for doing so, but-" a touch of pride entered his voice, "-Lorcan didn't manage to get a glimpse of me. Yet that was used as fuel for the fight, and… I just…"

His words ended as emotion overrode logic, and Sam sighed again.

Lysander watched the guilt on the other boy and realized that he was correct, in a sense. He could be blamed, yes, both for attacking Lorcan and being one of the loudest arguers in the Great Hall. Yet he was also wrong, because there were several other people who were far more liable.

Personal recrimination, huh? Lysander dipped his quill in the well for fresh ink as he stated "Leave the explanations for the professors."

 _Headmistress McGonagall,_

 _In light of recent events, I'd like the chance to sit down and talk with you. I am aware that your time must be more strained than normal at this moment for obvious reasons, yet it is those very reasons that I wish to address myself. I believe that I can give a unique perspective as someone living in the student body.  
_ _A lot of the school disturbances that have occurred can be attributed to my family, my close friends, my fellow 'Legacies' as our classmates continue to call us. While I assure I have taken a personal approach in attempt to restrict any repetition of their misdeeds, I unfortunately report that I may not be entirely successful.  
_ _Additionally, I wish to share my thoughts regarding the distribution of authority among myself and my fellow Prefects within Hogwarts. There are concerns about the cycle of recrimination that is threatening to build and I have hesitations about certain members of my peers setting the examples you desire._

 _Please inform me if such a meeting between us will be possible.  
_ _Lysander Scamander,  
_ _Ravenclaw House Prefect_

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harry Potter paced back and forth in his office, well aware of Ron and the Minister watching him do so. Since Ron's re-training back into the Auror Ranks he had resumed his position as one of Harry's right-hand men. Gerry Sanderson was the Deputy Head of the Auror office, but Sanderson was out on assignment and Ron had held the position before him, so he knew how to help Harry do his job.

Especially in instances like this, when helping Harry meant not grunt work but knowing what was going on in his head. "They'll be back soon," Ron assured. "You know better than anyone else that it takes time to scope out a location."

Harry grunted and turned as he reached the wall. He _did_ know that. Especially when locations were magically defended, especially when those defenses were Dark Magic traps.

And the horcrux locations that he'd sent teams to were _teeming_ with Dark Magic. He had set teams of five to each of the Voldemort's known horcrux hiding places, with strict order to report upon immediate arrival and again after sweeping through the location.

Harry's men always followed his orders. A patronus message had come from each team almost immediately after the apparrations to the locations, and over the day he'd waited anxiously for their second report before their return back to the Ministry.

Patronuses remained the only reliable and near-instantaneous means of magical communication over long distances, one that Harry was usually a staunch supporter of. In moments like this, however, all he could think of was the possibility that his Aurors weren't sending another message because their wands were occupied with other spells. Defensive spells, like a ring of fire to stop an army of swarming inferi from drowning the team to the bottom of the cursed lake.

Harry took another breath and turned again. He had wanted to be the person to first scout the Crystal Cave. After all, he was the only living wizard who had seen the traps Voldemort had left to defend Salazar's locket. The blood payment to pass the hidden entrance, the inferi that lurked beneath the waters, the invisible boat that would only let one wizard pass at a time and the Drought of Despair...

An old shiver went down his back, and Harry turned again in his pacing. This was why he'd let Ron, the Minister, and most importantly his wife persuade him not to join the initial team of scouts. Ginny knew more than anyone how the Crystal Cave still haunted his nightmares, and had refused to let her husband subject himself to the personal torture of going back. At least, not without a few good meals under his belt, some quality time with her, and an idea of what would be waiting for him.

So Harry had sent his men in his place, and now listened to the reports about the horcrux locations from miles away, imagining the worst possible scenarios happening to his men.

A silver blur came in through the window and then settled on the ground, swirling before rising into a large, four-legged creature whose head was even with Harry's chest and Ron's stomach.

"Sanderson." Kingsley said as he recognized the Great Dane, and leaned forward. "How is the Gaunt Shack?"

"Minister." The dane tipped it's large head in respect as it relayed Sanderson's report. "It is- barely standing, sir. The roof is in tatters and the floorboards rotting. We had to cast stabilizing spells to even set foot inside."

The three wizards frowned at this. Though they'd expected the Gaunt Shack to be in disrepair after years of neglect, they didn't expect worse than cobwebs. Magic could make any home last near indefinitely. Harry had personally seen the teetering, architecturally impossible Burrow that Ron and the rest of his Weasley in-laws had grown up in. And even the Shrieking Shack, which had been used to hold a growing werewolf, was unpleasant but not unsafe after almost half a century.

The giant silver dog shifted back and forth on its paws, and continued "It was the same as Malfoy Estate, sirs. The protective enchantments were gone, the few portraits are froze, and there were no standard enchantments that we'd expect in a wizard home."

"Bloody strange, that." Ron murmured, rubbing at a patch of red beard. "There one minute and gone the next."

"Mister Potter," Sanderson asked through his patronus, "May I ask what the other teams found?"

"About the same," Harry told his Deputy. "Not a lick of magic, and not a clue so far about what happened."

"So far?"

"We're waiting on one more report." Kingsley Shacklebolt said, then pursed his lips. "Sanderson, how fresh is your team?"

The great dane dipped its head. "Ready to go Minister. As mentioned, nothing of note happened here."

"Then apparate to the Cave and find Simmons' and his team. They haven't been in touch since they landed."

"Yes sir." The giant silver dog tipped its head again before crumbling, pooling and dissipating into fine mist until vanishing.

Harry looked at the spot that the patronus had been, then turned and resumed his pacing. This time though Ron reached out and grabbed his best friend by the shoulder. "I know you don't like them going from one mission to another, Harry, but it's the best choice. Half your men are still with the Creature's division, and the people still here are mostly deskworkers."

He nodded in reluctant agreement with his friend, folding his arms as he leaned against his desk. "And with the anti-disapparation jinxes over the Ministry, it would take time to gather and deploy them. I know, Ron. It's just-"

The rest of his words were lost as a silver blur burst through the window, the great dane leaping through to land not three feet from where it had previously stood. Its paws were braced wide and if it were a living creature it would have been panting with urgency. "They're down. Simmons is down and Anderson isn't breathing and there's no sign of Morris, Lee, or Baker-"

Harry was immediately on his feet. "Is the perimeter secure?"

"Yes sir, but they need a Healer."

"We'll have Mungo lift the anti-apparation charm for your entry," Kingsley assured, nodding as he watched Ron cast his patronus to send that exact message. The jack russell terrier shook from silver nose to tail once before taking off.

"Thank you sir." Sanderson's voice wavered with relief. There was a pause, and then he reported "They were both in the antechamber you mentioned, Potter, past the water tunnel. The entrance is open and Anderson was facing _away_ from the lake, sir. I think they were on their way out-"

"Are the inferi moving?" Harry demanded, reminding his man of the danger.

"I can't tell, sir, there's barely any light. But if Morris, Lee and Baker didn't make it out-"

 _"Do not enter that Cave,_ Sanderson. That's an order."

Harry and Ron both started at the command from the British Minister, and then Harry- with extreme reluctance- agreed. "What's rookie rule one, Sanderson?"

"Wait for backup." The projected voice emerged through grit canine teeth. "But sir, we _are_ the backup."

"And now, we'll back _you_ up." Ron said with his usual stubbornness. "We'll be there in forty."

"Thirty." Kingsley nodded to the emergency fireplace behind them. "I'll open the floo in here to casual travel- get every able Auror in to provide support."

Ron nodded and burst from harry's office, his loud voice echoing to his advantage as he called out for the combat-cleared people to "Drop whatever bloody useless papers you're holding onto and get your arse in Harry's office immediately!"

"There's one more thing, sir." Sanderson's patronus spoke up, and Harry started guiltily. He hadn't meant to cut off his man from the rest of his report.

"Proceed." He said quickly, wanting the message to end so that Sanderson would no longer be distracted from the danger he faced.

"It's Simmons, Sir. He doesn't recognize me. Or anyone."

Harry's mouth went dry and he licked his lips nervously. "Concussed?" he asked, feeling twisted for hoping that the answer was yes.

"No sir. No head wound, not a scratch on him. Or Anderson. Mister Potter," Sanderson took a breath. "there's a chill in the air that's more than just the cave. There are dementors on the other side of the entrance."

There it was. The proof they'd been after. The gathering dementors, the amnesiac magicless wizards, the broken enchantments- they were all connected. They had to be, though Harry still had no idea how or why.

He hung his head. He wished the confirmation hadn't come at the cost of Simmons. "We'll be there as soon as we can. Stay _vigilant_ , and do not engage. Retreat if you have to."

"Yes sir." Sanderson said, his voice also lined with regret. Then his patronus vanished a second time.

Kingsley Shacklebolt took a deep breath, then turned to Harry. "The Floo is open. Where do you want them to gather?"

"...my house." Harry grabbed a handful of glittering powder to toss into the fireplace. "I'll have to tell Ginny before we go."

* * *

 _Not a teaser- next chapter will start with the immediate continuation of this last scene. So any last theories or rants that you've got- go for it! Leave me a Review of what you predict will be in that cave!_

 _And that's how Zoethia Malam and Jonovan Orion got tied up with the Ministry of Magic. and, the mini-maybe?-forgotten mystery of how Zoey's hair changes colors!_

 _Hair Colors:_  
 _Excited- electric blue_  
 _Happy- gold_  
 _Jealous- lime green_  
 _Nervous/worried- 'pumpkin' orange_  
 _Determined- black_  
 _Proud- Silver_  
 _Angry- Red_  
 _Fear- White_

 _The color 'fades' eventually back to her normal hair color- brown, same as her eyebrows. I have been sticking firmly to this from the very beginning. Zoey's emotions are the ones that usually decide the color, since Jon is a lot more laid back than her. Zoey is generally very happy or excited, which makes her hair electric blue or gold. Jon is most passionate about his successes or goals, so he's the one that usually makes the silver or black on rare occasions._

 _Oh yeah... and I never forgot Jon's investigating. Or him calling Creevy to his office. Turns out Jon is scary manipulative of people he doesn't care about- and right now, the only person he cares about is Zoey. Who knew? (Me. I knew. bwahaha)_

 _PS-_

 _Peeves is bad with names. Argy Filtch = Argus Filtch, and Rancid Carp = Rancourous Carpe. Carpe was the Caretaker in 1876 who tried to trap Peeves with a room of medieval weapons before kicking him out, but Peeves escaped and used all those weapons as his personal toys around Hogwarts until the Headmistress of the day swore they'd never try to banish Peeves again._


	31. Ch 31 Respect Elders

**Ch 31- Echoes of the Past**

* * *

 _~Happy Halloween~_

* * *

Harry Potter stood in the doorway of his private study, looking into the room as though it held all the answers to the universe. He could hear the roar of the fireplace just one flight of stairs away as Ministry Hit Wizards arrived in his living room through the Floo Network, greeted by Ron and Ginny and given a brief rundown of where they were going and what to expect.

Ginny had been making dinner when he arrived, and had dropped everything to rush to the living room. She hadn't expected him home for hours, which meant the unexpected arrival had her worried.

Harry had immediately greeted her with a hug and a quick kiss to assure he was all right, but the worry quickly returned to her face as he filled her in on what had brought him home. It wasn't the first time their living room had been used as a launch point for an Auror mission, unfortunately, and they were well prepared.

The married Potters had stashed spare auror uniforms in their house for just such emergencies, and Ginny had helped Harry grab his combat robes, assured she would rearrange the living room furniture so the arriving wizards wouldn't be cramped, and… and given another suggestion.

The soft ticks of the clock echoed loudly in his ears.

That suggestion was the reason that Harry now stood in the doorway of his private study, instead of greeting and motivating the arriving Hit Wizards. There were no more Aurors on hand. Him and Ron were it- the rest were either supporting the Ministry's Creatures Division on dementor patrol, or on the teams that had been at the other Horcrux locations. Ergo the gathering 'back-up' was made of Hit Wizards from Magical Law Enforcement.

While similarly trained, the difference in skill was like that between a muggle street cop and special forces. Not to mention that Harry had trained every Auror in his command personally, he knew their strengths and shortcomings like the back of his own hand and knew they'd follow his every command in the field without a moment's hesitation. The Hit Wizards respected him and his authority, but not on an individual level. They wouldn't be personally motivated to protect him, or protect the hurt or missing squad they were rescuing.

The Head of the Auror division knew he could trust the professionalism of the Hit Wizards, but he'd always preferred personal loyalties to badges. That's why he was grateful Ron would be coming, even though he'd been out of the Auror business for years.

Harry found himself watching the portrait of himself and his family that was mounted behind his desk, painted shortly after Lily's birth. Ginny was holding their new baby girl, brimming with happiness and playing with the babe who cooed adorably as she reached for a strand of her Mother's ginger hair. Harry held the one-year old Albus in one arm, his spare hand resting on a three-year old James's shoulder. The young Albus periodically hid his face against his Dad's shoulder, but James's eyes were alight with the determination that the three year old had shown when he insisted he too would stand on his own for the long time that the portrait would take, instead of sitting or being held as his younger siblings were.

While he normally looked to the image with fond nostalgia, Harry's mind was currently focused on what lay behind the portrait. On the magical safe he'd spent a small fortune to acquire, to protect and conceal the single most dangerous thing in his house. The most dangerous item in the wizarding world.

The Elder Wand.

He moved back into quick pacing, running a hand through his hair. Harry had barely touched the thing since it had killed Voldemort twenty-three years ago. He had meant what he'd promised, when he said he wouldn't use the wand, that he'd do his best to die a peaceful death so that the amassed power of the ancient weapon would cease to be.

Of course, the temptation to change his decision had always persisted. Harry had thought many a time about opening the safe. He had faced countless deadly situations since winning the Battle of Hogwarts, and every single time he was tempted to use the Elder Wand to protect himself, not only out of a desire to survive, but to prevent his defeat and the subsequent transfer of the wand's power. Every time he had tracked down yet another Death Eater, every time he led a raid into the property of a known Dark Wizard, every time he responded to a dementor attack, his eyes would wander toward the safe and feel the tempting power that lay in rest beyond it.

Harry had never done it, however. He had never so much as touched the safe since placing the Elder Wand inside of it.

This time, though… this time Harry didn't just face death. This time he risked losing not his life but himself, his memories, and his magic. His mind kept going back to Simmons. The Auror had been at his back for countless missions, had been a fixture in Harry's life. Simmons had a home and a family and though he wasn't dead he was still _gone_. Simmons hadn't recognised Sanderson, even though they'd joined the Auror training together. Simmons wouldn't even recognize his own home if he saw it, though he'd probably be at 's for a long time. He wouldn't know his visitors apart, his friends from his family. Simmons had forgotten his wife. His own children.

Now Harry, and every one of his wizards who were going into the Crystal Cave with him, risked the same fate.

His entire being quivered at the thought. The eleven year old that Harry had been- the miserable, abused muggle child that he'd been, balked at the very idea of losing his magic. The ability that had not only granted him his freedom but his friendships and life as he knew it. His own family. He looked to the portrait. His three children.

He wasn't the only one scared. Ginny had been the first one to voice the option, her voice wavering as she'd suggested, tentatively and regretfully, that if there had ever been a time for him to use the Elder Wand to protect himself, she thought this was it.

He couldn't take the chance. How could he? The power of the Elder Wand was a siren's call. Could Harry take the risk that this 'one exception' would turn into two, or three, and stretch until he no longer felt reluctance to wield the weapon that countless wizards had killed for? Until it was not merely the 'Elder Wand' but his own, replacing the phoenix-feather wand that had been by his side for all of this life?

On the other hand, Harry turned as he approached the wall, how could he not? Harry had put his wife through numerous scares. She'd watched him fight Voldemort, she'd nursed him at St. Mungo's Hospital more times than he'd care to admit, she'd hushed him through his nightmares about the true terrors he'd seen in his waking hours. How could he deny Ginny this comfort, this assurance that he was truly taking every possible precaution?

It had gone quiet downstairs. A glance at the clock told him that it had been twenty-four minutes since he promised Sanderson support. He looked back at the portrait again, this time looking at the young version of himself. A Harry Potter lean and fresh from Auror training, riding a high of catching the last of Voldemort's inner circle not one week before. Smiling and looking exactly like he'd felt- young, invincible, unstoppable. The man who'd denied the Elder Wand without a second thought.

If he looked in the mirror, Harry knew that his features would be the same. Same green eyes, same awkward ears, same black and unkempt hair- albeit with graying strands nowadays- but on the inside, Harry Potter was no longer the same person. He'd seen more, done more, survived more in his life than the Harry in that portrait could have ever imagined. His reflection would be a man who viewed the Elder Wand not merely as a deadly weapon, but as precaution against something that could be even deadlier. Protection for himself, for his family, and for people who were willing to risk their lives on his command.

As Harry walked down the stairs and spoke a few words to the gathered Hit Wizards, as he and Ron described where to apparate and how to reach the cave, as they warned about the inferi and the curse and the likely presence of dementors, he tried not to worry. The Hit Wizards, while well trained, were not Aurors, and not many of them could cast a Patronus Shield for long. As he hugged Ginny tightly, he promised he would be back, safe and memory-intact.

And as he finally vanished from his own living room with a small pop, Harry Potter carried not one wand in his possession, but two.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Albus cried for a long while. And then, he just sat, completely spent, staring at nothing.

 _Well not quite true, actually,_ Zoey Malam corrected herself. Albus was letting his gaze fall and linger every and anywhere except the person who was still sitting next to him. Also known as, Zoey herself.

She reasoned that he was embarrassed about crying in the first place, so she didn't call him out on what would otherwise be an undoubtedly rude action. She was even trying to find a way to break the awkward silence that had arisen when Lily Potter turned the corner and broke it for her.

The Second Year Hufflepuff took one look at her big brother, shook her head softly, and then chided that if he was going to cry about it, he should find other ways to solve his arguments than physical violence.

Albus sheepishly ducked his head and accepted the rebuke, though he shot Zoey a secretive look that held absolutely no remorse. She'd had to stifle a laugh at his unexpected cheekiness.

She must have made some sort of noise though, because all of a sudden Lily was looking at her.  
"What?" Zoey asked, trying to keep her eyes big and innocent as she secretly dug her nails into her palm to hold back her continued amusement. Her efforts weren't helped by Albus, who looked amused himself at her current dilemma.

Lily stared at her a moment longer, obviously still suspicious before she whipped her gaze back around to Albus, looking back and forth a few more times. Then the girl seemed to decide that whatever the inside joke was it wasn't worth her effort- or at least, that's what Zoey mentally translated from the year long sigh the Hufflepuff let out.

"An-y-ways, Zoey, do you wanna work on the Charms homework together?"

"Sure, that'd be great." The Ravenclaw happily agreed, knowing that it wasn't so much as a pairing as Lily offering her help. Despite reading as much as she could, Zoey was still frustratingly behind in some areas of her classes and Lily was being amazing about trying to stay available to help. Because of her aid, Zoey was finding the Second Year Charms class a lot easier than her First Year Transfiguration.

They all went to the library to look up the books that they'd need for the assignment. Without wands, all of the classes had taken a strong turn toward historical and theoretical subjects. As they traveled Zoey heard the familiar light scratching of claws and felt and increasingly-familiar waft of cinnamon nearby, and new it to be Rasputin. The Albanian Murtlap, as promised, hadn't stopped following her since she'd left Jon's office. He'd been on the windowsill with her before Albus had come by, and was now jumping along the portrait frames to keep up with her movement.

"Whatcha looking at?" Albus asked, turning to follow her gaze but not seeing the jumping murtlap immediately.

"Nothing," Zoey was quick to assure him, and asked one last question that'd been ignored earlier. "What did he do? Did he deserve it?"

Funny. Her mind automatically jumped back to a very similar conversation she'd had almost a year ago with Scorpius after _he'd_ punched someone for the first time. On the heels of that thought was the realization that it had been the same person. James Potter had earned a punch from not just one, but two of her friends. Huh.

Maybe she should avoid the guy. Drama never went anywhere good.

Albus was taking longer to answer than Scorpius had, looking down at his hand. Zoey panicked for a moment- she'd healed the pain magically during their conversation, but she didn't want him to notice- until his eyes shifted to the Gryffindor badge on his chest and she realized his focus wasn't actually following his gaze. "Yeah. He… yeah, for a lot of reasons. That thing I told you about the Sorting Hat? He- James knew, he was the only person who knew, and he was about to tell."

"Oh." She blinked a few times, not sure what to say, and so she ultimately didn't before they arrived at the library.

As soon as they walked through the door they were immediately shushed by the librarian- even though none of them were talking- and Zoey happily found that a benefit of working in the library was that even she wasn't expected to talk constantly. That was a good thing, she couldn't have kept her mind on track for a full conversation if she tried.

It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to the Potter siblings she was currently at the same table with, it's just that they weren't important right now. Not really. Neither was her charms homework, though she dutifully cracked open a dusting book to look up Jarleth Hobart. Most of her Ravenclaw intellect was still focused on the possibility that her Magic wasn't normal. That it was more like Jon's.

A familiar growl made her glade up at the bookshelf behind the two Potters, seeing Rasputin's hairless tail trailing over one of the higher racks. He was scratching trashed parchment into a makeshift nest. Rasputin had only made the mistake of mauling a book in front of Zoey once. He'd never do it again.

Zoey wondered if Jon was looking through Rasputin at this exact moment. It was strange to know that not only was Jon watching after her through his familiar, but now he was _literally_ watching her _through_ his familiar. Ultimately though the idea of Jon having another way to reach her was reassuring. Hogwarts was the first time in four years that they'd been living more than one room away from eachother. Only the second time in her life. The first had been when Jon got his magic.

 _...that made it sound like magic was something he'd picked up off the floor,_ Zoey reflected as she stared down at her book. Which, strangely enough, wasn't the craziest theory about how it had happened.

Jonovan Orion had been born about as magical as a molehill. Growing up, he'd shown no sign of being a new-wizard. He'd graduated muggle school and was about to head to muggle college to prepare for a muggle life when the accident happened. It had been a crazy series of events that had left them lost inside and then rescued from the Albanian Forest, something that always tugged Zoey's gut with guilt. Jon had been hospitalized, she'd been interrogated, and she'd thought the worst was over.

Until Jon's hospital had shown up on the news the next day. She was called back in for an even more extensive interrogation by the Ministry of Magic. There she discovered that it hadn't been a muggle bomb that had caused so much damage, but her cousin. Jon had woken up, with _magic,_ and while she was relieved that he was safe the Ministry wanted to know if he'd ever shown any sign of being magical before. He hadn't. Jon, for the first eighteen years of his life, had been as muggle as they come.

The Ministry had immediately whisked Jon away and frantically wiped the memories of all the muggles involved. _Days_ had gone by without a word, crawling into weeks and threatening months. Her Aunt and Uncle had been magicked to believe that Jon had successfully gone on to college, just as planned, so Zoey was once again burdened with knowledge in a house of ignorance.

She'd written the Ministry every day, begged Miss Cringle- her only contact from the Wizarding World- to help her, and after the longest part of her life… Kingsley Shacklebolt had showed up at her front door. The Minister of Magic, himself, had come to escort her.

She hadn't understood the significance of his position, and to be frank at ten years old she didn't care that the man on her doorstep was the most politically powerful wizard in Britain. He could take her to Jon, he _would_ take her to Jon, and that was all that mattered to her.

They'd traveled deep below the Ministry, down to the Department of Mysteries and into the Magic Division. Through a dozen security precautions and maze-like halls until, finally, Zoey was brought before a glass observatory.

A few Unspeakable wizards stepped back so she could approach and look through the one-way window, to see a bedroom. Or at least, it would have been if it'd had a door. Or a roof. Instead it felt like she was looking down into a glass rat cage.

She shouldn't have recognised the person in it. She _shouldn't._ With claws, glowing eyes, a spindly body and a near-feral snarl directed up at a window he couldn't see through, Zoey should have fearfully asked what that creature was. Instead she placed a small hand on the one-way mirror, her bracelet clicking against it. "Jon hates being watched."

The Unspeakables had glanced at eachother, then looked over to Kingsley. The Minister- obviously wondering how he had somehow been volunteered to explain a complex situation to a ten year old child- had said "Unfortunately we don't have the choice. He's barely said a word since he arrived and his magic attacks anyone who gets close. We _need_ to know when he sleeps, because it's the only time we can get nourishment into him."

"He's scared. He doesn't know about you- this- _any_ of this." Zoey had snapped in anger to the group at large, wondering if they couldn't understand his situation because they were adults. "He doesn't know about _magic,_ let alone about a Ministry of it! You're treating him like some kind of experiment. How's he supposed to know any different? How's he supposed to trust any of the food you send him?"

"We've told him repeatedly-"

"Oh I'm sure." she turned to the Unspeakable. "From _this_ side of the glass, right?" She knocked on it, the sound making Jon jump to his feet and bare his teeth. His action had made the Unspeakable witch who'd tried to refute her jump back fearfully, and Zoey had her answer.

"Why is he so scary to you anyways?" This was her cousin, he wasn't scary.

"He can't control his own power. At this rate, he may form an obscurial." The witch answered again, eager to defend her apprehension.

"A what?" Zoey frowned, but from the way the adults had shifted their eyes at eachother she knew she wouldn't get the answer.

Instead they told her "Magic, when we are young, is mostly an emotional instinct. As witches and wizards grow we learn to sequester it from our emotions to give us our control. This muggle cousin of yours never learned any such distinction."

Zoey had taken another breath in anger when Kingsley had placed a hand on her shoulder, telling her more gently "A living creature suddenly becoming magical has never happened. Wizards can be born to muggles, but never have we seen magic manifest this late in life. We didn't expect such a change to be permanent, and assumed that once it left we could just send him home. But it seems that is not the case. He's only gotten stronger, and to be frank, we don't know how to help him."

She had released her breath and nodded once, then turned her eyes up to the Minister's. "Let me talk to him."

"Out of the question." The Head Unspeakable rejected her out of hand. "It's far too dangerous."

"I'm not talking to you." the ten year old had snapped with surprising authority, her eyes never leaving Kingsley's. She may not have cared for his power but she still recognised that he had it. "You want me to help? Here's how I can help. My cousin would never hurt me."

He'd looked at her for a long moment, long enough for Zoey to fear that he was about to say no. Long enough for Jon to crouch back down. Long enough to wonder if the Minister had even heard the question at all. Then Kingsley turned to the Unspeakables. "Get a pair of volunteers to escort her."

While the magic researchers sputtered complaints, Zoey had set her jaw. "I won't need them."

"You'll take them, or you won't go at all."

 _I was right, of course._ Zoey mused as she looked back at the memory. Twin bolts of electricity had blasted her 'escorts' off their feet while she, standing right between them, had barely felt a breeze. Jon had looked at her in confusion for a moment, then his glowing eyes widened as he recognised her. He'd practically charged forward to pull her away from the men who'd accompanied her, standing between them.

As soon as they touched though Zoey had been overwhelmed by the feeling of his magic crashing into hers for the first time. She hadn't understood what was happening, only that something in Jon was wrong, wrong, _wrong-_ and that though it felt nauseating, it hadn't actually hurt her to take it from him.

She'd pulled all the contaminated magic from him, a mass of literally bottled emotion that had been making it impossible for Jon to think rationally. Finally the two cousins had staggered apart. Jonovan Malam Orion had looked at his surroundings with clear eyes for the first time in weeks, then smiled at her. She'd smiled back for all of a half-second before vomiting on the floor, and Jon had cried 'Someone get a damn doctor in here this instant!'

Chaos had ensued, but Zoey hadn't regretted making the demand to Kingsley that day. In fact, it soon became apparent that her interference was the only thing that could calm Jon- and his new magic- when he lost control. The Unspeakables hadn't even had to ask, Zoey had immediately volunteered to do everything she could to help Jon master the ability he'd inexplicably gained.

A Muggle had become a wizard after surviving almost unbelievable circumstances. The Unspeakables had gone ballistic trying to work out all the variables. Was it only the near death experience? Had the untrained witch, when attempting to heal the Muggle's wounds, perhaps done something entirely different? Or was it exposure to something unique in the Albanian Forest- the bites of those specific creatures who'd attacked? The water in the river and spring they'd been exposed to?

Zoey had tried to help, but she hadn't exactly been marking their path. She couldn't so much as find the spring again let alone the exact berry vines they'd eaten from, and she wasn't skilled enough to extract a memory for the anyone to examine. She quickly found her best assistance wasn't examining the past but grounding the present- mentally, she rooted Jon in reality. Emotionally, she was his support. He'd been stolen away from the life he was supposed to have, college and career falling to the wayside by the Ministry of Magic's sayso. And Jonovan Orion was more an experiment than a person to the Unspeakables who watched his every move. Zoey knew that Jon never really trusted them, only her and barely Kingsley. Magically, Zoey's magic provided a balance for his- whatever new power he'd gained, it wasn't stable. It would get… infected, for lack of a better word, by his emotions or his environment. Like a polluted well it would sour and fester until eventually it would overflow, and though the Ministry did their best nothing beside Zoey helped.

It took time, a host of magical 'experts' that hadn't been able to fix anything and instead just put the pair through rigorous training for self-control, but finally, _finally_ Jon had become more stable than not. Then had come a pretty tense conversation covering exactly where Jon was and why he was there, but that was ultimately worth it. Once Jon understood the danger in his fingertips he had readily agreed to the restrictions and the despicable lab-like setting of his quarters was changed. It was still a long time before he was allowed to leave the depths of the Department of Mysteries.

That was why Zoey had turned down the Hogwarts Letter she'd gotten at eleven years old. It had been all Zoey wanted, all she'd _dreamed_ about, but when it arrived she didn't go. She wouldn't leave Jon. While Zoey had made the occasional trip home, Jon hadn't been allowed to so much as leave his room for months. It must have been so hard to live like that, and though Jon blamed the Ministry for not taking Zelina's magical items sooner Zoey still blamed herself.

She'd never live with herself if, on top of letting this happen to Jon, he had to go through the change alone. So though she'd gone to watch the Hogwarts Express leave on September 1st that year, Zoey hadn't gotten on board, and instead gone back to voluntarily live in the Department of Mysteries with Jon until he got better.

Jon had always been a quick learner, and so in four years he attained almost as much control over his magic as a true wizard would have. Over that time the Unspeakables had given up on removing his magic. All in all, the last four years of their lives had been a complete mess.

Speaking of messes- half of Rasputin's nest fell off the shelf in a confetti shower of shredded paper as he Albanian Murtlap finally laid down in the middle of it. He grumbled about the lost padding, but it seemed like he was either too comfortable or lazy to get up and replace it. Zoey voted on lazy.

She felt herself smiling softly. The one positive thing about the whole mess with Jon's magic was that it had led Rasputin to be a part of their lives. He wasn't the traditional magic companion and she supposed she could understand why other students seemed not to like him. The prickly creature was definitely not ideal for cuddles, but she wouldn't have him any other way. And Zoey supposed that it wasn't the _worst_ thing in the world to have her surrogate brother looking after her. Even if he did go overboard. Sometimes _way_ overboard. Like, off-the-ship-across-the-ocean over.

"Zoey, did you find the history of Leviosa?"

"Hrm? Oh, yeah." Zoey blinked back to the present and looked down at her book. "The charm was made by Jarleth Hobart in an attempt to fly, he didn't realize it was his clothes doing the floating until _after_ he took off his cloak and fell to the the floor. Ouch… and in front of a crowd he'd invited to watch. Double ouch."

Albus and Lily laughed, Zoey joined along, and though her thoughts didn't wander again she wasn't truly engaged, her gaze wandering up to Rasputin at every chance.

"You okay?" Albus pulled her from her thoughts with his concern. "You've been pretty distracted. Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine." Zoey immediately assured, a knee-jerk reaction as she pulled out one of the other things that was bothering her instead of discussing the true dilemma she was facing. "It's… a lot, really. So much has happened. And to top it all off Professor Longbottom's been giving me a hard time lately. I think he still hasn't forgiven me for losing control of my magic in the Great Hall."

Lily and Albus shared a meaningful look for a brief flash, then Lily said hesitantly. "It's probably because you petrified Lorcan, actually. Longbottom's loathing for misusing those spells is notorious."

"Crackers." Zoey mumbled, never having gained the vocabulary or attraction for real swearing thanks to first her Aunt's and then Jon's protective streaks. "Any suggestions for how to make it up with him? You know, like an apple for the teacher? Is there a wizard equivalent for that?"

The muggle saying was clearly unrecognized, but they got the gist of what she was asking. "Maybe something for his plants?" Lily suggested.

Zoey pursed her lips. "Actually, Longbottom did mention a need for- uh, what was it? Lunar fertilizer?"

"Oh. That comes from moon calves." Albus said, and at her look of surprise quickly explained "I saw one at the edge of the Forbidden Forest not too long ago and had a bit of a panic about it- Uncle Hagrid told me they aren't dangerous at all though, and even really liked because they help fields grow."

"Is that so?" Zoey smiled a bit at the boy as she lifted a curled finger back to her lips, an idea forming. "Think you could find it again?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

This wind here was as cold as ever, Harry Potter reflected as he and his men arrived on the cliff outbank. Tempting as it would have been to apparate straight into the Crystal Cavern, it would mean assuming that not only was the Anti-Apparation Charm and Disapparation Jinx over the cave broken, but that they wouldn't be arriving into the middle of a battle. Harry had long ago learned that it was far from advisable to Apparate into a potentially dangerous setting, finding that it was much safer to enter on foot.

Frigid air rose from the frigid ocean and cut into them like icy daggers, quick to shred any illusion that their presence was welcome here. Were this the final destination he would have ordered warming spells- but this was still the travel step, and he wanted his wizards to save as much energy as possible.

He did a head-count when the apparating snaps of arriving wizards stopped, then lead the way, jumping down off the boulder to swim to the half-submerged entrance to the cave.

"Bloody hell," Ron commented in a mumble as they waded in chest-high water, teeth starting to chatter. "Why couldn't Voldemort have picked someplace tropic?"

Half the people who heard him chuckled in agreement, some of the greener hit wizards chuckled with nerves, but the rest grew more somber at the reminder of where they were, that this was once a place of power for The Dark Lord himself. Harry was part of the group that didn't answer.

When they got to the cave there was a collective sigh of relief as the space grew crowded, the arriving wizards were keen to reach the dry floor. Muttered spells echoed off the pristine walls as Hit Wizard and Auror alike summoned flames and other warmth to combat the wet chill.

The Healers from Mungo's responded by conjuring a bluebell flame, illuminating the otherwise dark cave and warming everyone. Their focus was mostly trained on their patient, though.

"Do you know where you are?" One Healer asked, shining a soft _lumos_ in Simmons' eyes to test pupil reaction while the other tended the magical fire. "Can you tell me your name?"

The man only stared blankly at the wand, then at the blue flame that the wizards were warming around. It hovered and crackled three feet off the ground to spread its warmth and seemed to pull Simmons' to it a moth, the once-Auror's eyes glazed over in an empty reflection.

Harry felt his heart sink as the sight, searching the small cave until he spotted Sanderson.

The tall and lean Auror was standing guard by the doorway into the lake cavern, his eyes and ears tuned in to catch even the slightest noise from the other side. His teeth were clenched in either tension or anger, and his knuckles were tight on his english oak wand.

He caught Harry's gaze and the square line of his jaw softened. A few short orders later he'd called one of their other Auror's to take his place and stepped to the side. "Was I right?" he asked his Head. "Is it dementors?"

Harry took a deep breath from the dead air. It was still cold, and uninviting, but there was another element to it was he was unfortunately familiar with. A specific kind of chill that went deeper than the lungs to coil in the pits of his stomach and make the world seem that little less bright.

"Dementors." He agreed, hiding the swooping aversion even the name still inspired in him. Though he knew that his patronus was strong enough to protect his men and himself, that didn't mean he was immune to the utter dread their presence still caused. He would never get over it, he supposed- there was a reason his boggarts were still dementors. "If they haven't attacked yet, then we probably outnumber them."

Sanderson frowned. "If that's true though, then why didn't they attack me before you got here? And why did they let Simmon's get away?"

Harry didn't know. He'd never liked let alone wanted to understand Dementors, and wasn't about to start trying. Simmons had not been Kissed. His eyes though unfocused were still expressive and he was still interested in his surroundings, yet he couldn't deny there was something undeniably off about conversation.

As Harry pulled away he realized with a start that he wasn't the only one watching. Most every eye was watching the interaction between the Senior Auror and the two Healers. The focus of veteran and green recruit alike was dangerously divided because of it, the group of- Merlin- over thirty wizards that had been crammed into the small cave looking in a single direction.

He saw Ron frown, glance his way and give an assuring nod, before stepping forward. "What are you lot gawking at!" his voice echoed. "Bloody hell, has training gone that far downhill since I retired? Eyes up wands out and Merlin's beard who's watching the perimeter?!"

The Weasley temper truly was an unstoppable force, as every man jerked attention and followed the command without second thought, allowing themselves to be placed in more appropriate positions.

Harry smiled gratefully. Sometimes, he forgot that for all his jokes Ron had been a great Auror himself and invaluable as his right-hand man before retiring.

"Sir, are we sure bellowing is the appropriate approach?"

He chuckled softly. "Would you like to be the one to tell him that?"

Sanderson blinked, looked from Harry Potter himself to Ronald Granger-Weasley, a legend in his own right, and wisely decided not to volunteer.

"Besides," Harry went on. "I'd honestly rather the Dementors' be forced double-file through the entrance than our own men."

"Agreed." He supported, a wisp of patronus silver slipping readily from his wand.

"Let's focus on what we do know instead." Harry turned the conversation back to where it had been. "Any changes?"

"No. Like I said, when we got here Simmons and Anderson were just barely at the entrance. Anderson was already-" he glanced at the shroud covering her, then forged on "Susan Anderson was dead and half covering Simmons, who was about screaming his head off."

It spoke to how callous Harry had grown through experience that he felt a chill not at the description of finding one of his men dead, but at the detail of Simmons shouting. The man had always been the silent type, only speaking when needed and keen to downplay any injury. Merlin knew how many times Harry'd had to force him to visit a Mungo Healer. It was Simmons' biggest flaw and a pain in his…

Harry winced. It really _was_ Simmons' biggest flaw. He glanced that the listless, unfocused expression the man had while watching the fire. Simmons wasn't the same person right now.

"We haven't seen or heard a peep from the cavern since we've been here, though the light shifts a bit."

"Thank you Sanderson," Harry muttered automatically when he recognised the tone as one of a finished report.

"Right." Ron walked up, rubbing his beard. "So, I've ordered three to go back with Simmons to Mungo and take Anderson as well. Each Healer has a brand spankin-new body guard, and I think about ten should cover the entrance."

Harry did quick math and nodded. That left twenty people, including himself, to enter the Crystal Cavern. He also looked at the people Ron had chosen and relaxed when he saw his best friend has assigned the greener, younger wizards to the less dangerous support positions.

Sanderson frowned. "Why not send the Healers back with Simmons?"

Ron met Harry's gaze grimly, but all he could do was shrug. The Auror job, despite maintaining the same purpose and goals, had changed since his brother-in-law's retirement. Ron had fought in the days of hunting down Voldemort's inner circle, when skirmishes against Dark Wizards had always ended in a duel and destruction and bloodshed on both sides. The modern criminal of the Wizarding World was polite, clever, and oh so frustratingly willing to along with the law. They were determined to have their day in court. Sometimes _very_ long days. Usually multiple days involving multiple testimonies of the same events.

 _Verita Serum_ could only go so far, the rare ingredients and even rarer potioneer capable of brewing it suffering a shortage due to demand. Not to mention a group called _Potioneers' Judgement Activists_ had backing a movement that argued brews like _Verita Serum_ and _Amortentia_ were basically bottled Imperius Curses, and suspended their use until trials passed judgement and authorization as being dire.

Still, Harry would have gladly been called to court to give his umpteenth testimony on the same case rather than be here. "Because," he finally answered, realizing his mental tangent had been to stall the unfortunate truth. "Some of us may need a Healer soon."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Four years ago Jonovan Malam-Orion had needed to relearn how the human body worked. From a functional standpoint, not an anatomical one. Changing his own body mass and height at a whim was easily disorienting. The process had been puberty all over again, with bumping his head and toes into things and mistiming his steps. It was embarrassing to remember how hard he found even the simplest of actions, changing even half an inch in any direction knocking his balance so far off he couldn't turn or bend without taking a tumble, but ultimately his effort was worth it. Now Jon wielded his shape-changing ability with glee at the freedom it gave.

The one limit to his transformations was that he had to remain humanoid. Two legs, two arms, and one head were parts of himself he couldn't change. Jon personally felt he'd been cheated of the ability to grow new appendages- _imagine_ how much more work could be done with extra hands, or how great it would be to grow wings. Or how strangely mobile having four legs instead of merely two could be.

The last possibility was foremost in his thoughts as Jon's mind rested comfortably in the corner of Rasputin's, the Albanian Murtlap more than willing to allow his Master's presence. Rasputin moved and balanced the same way a rat did, able to climb and swim and jump with the mobility but not the cuddliness of a squirrel. Jonovan had been fascinated when his mind has first merged with his pet's, goading the normally lethargic creature into a show of acrobatics. It wasn't true possession of his familiar, though Jon did see, hear and feel everything that Raz did. Rather, it was a merge of the two of them, with Rasputin projecting to his Master what he was experiencing while Jon sent his familiar his desires and goals of the moment.

Currently, they were watching over his cousin and his Second Master, the meanings blurring solidly into a single idea. They had been there since Zoey had given the rather disturbing conclusion about her magic. Between getting his dinner and returning to his office Jon had merged with Rasputin periodically to make sure his familiar hadn't lost track of her. Though logically, Jon was well aware that she was safe in the halls of Hogwarts and now secure in the library, he couldn't shake the periodic urge to see for himself. Even if checking 'himself' was really a strange partial mind-projection mix of himself into the senses of his murtlap.

It wasn't a new urge, the need to constantly check on his cousin. Zoey called it paranoia. Jon called it practicality. After all, his magic was still unstable. Errant emotions still led to uncontrolled outbursts, and his rationality was literally blinded by his own power by the time he reached the end of a fuse that was admittedly short once lit. If Zoey wasn't on hand during such occasions, he could cause massive chaos.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, returning to his own body. He settled the miniature whirlwind that his magic had grown around him and blinked away the green glow in his eyes, taking a look around his office as he stretched back into his limbs and adjusted to his lack of a tail. Nothing had changed during his mental absence. Good.

Jon settled back into his skin, absently changing it from european white to indian copper and african dark before resuming its natural pigment. He was content with the reassurance that Zoey was peacefully studying in the library with Albus Potter. He'd watched the boy's identity crisis and subsequent breakdown, eavesdropping on the conversation but more distracted by what Zoey had been doing.

She had literally _just_ promised to be careful about her own magical anomalies, and then what does she do? She uses her wandless magic to heal the boy's swollen wrist. An entirely superficial injury on someone she barely knew and therefore wasn't worth the effort let alone the risk that he'd realize the strange way her magic worked. Jon had noticed her eyes glint soft lavender and Rasputin had growled his Master's unhappiness. Fortunately it seemed the youngest Potter had been sufficiently distracted by Zoey's rambles, or maybe just wasn't as sensitive to magic as they were.

Still, it wasn't an action that she should repeat. Jon wouldn't take the slightest chance of the Ministry Unspeakables taking interest in Zoey. When he'd first become a wizard he'd been whisked away from everyone and everything, and though the time before Zoey's arrival was still a blurr, he remembered bits and pieces.

He remembered how at first, while he'd still had sanity, he had demanded answers. He remembered being denied any explanations, denied even the decency of privacy. He remembered being paralysed into helplessness before he learned how to break himself free. He remembered being tested and prodded like an experiment and fearing that he'd be literally dissected like a frog in biology class. Not even by the teacher, but by inexperienced, idiotic simpletons with no idea of what they were doing.

The Ministry of Magic was inept, inefficient, and beneath contempt. This much power handled by a group of incompetents, Jon sneered, and his muggle self had never had a clue. It was for his own safety and that of his family that he kept an eye on the Minister and therefore his whole organization.

His time in the last four years had taught him more than a few new tricks, it had shown him the world that had always been veiled from view. A world of myticism and impossibilities and if Jon was being honest, he'd been underwhelmed by what he'd learn. Wizards are antiquated and inflexible as a whole. They had a dangerous combination of power, ego, god-complex… Jon leaned back from his worktable with a smirk. And _boring_ predictability. Which is why he didn't trust Zoey's safety to them. He would continue to see to it himself. It came down to a simple fact.

Magic is wasted on the magical.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Let it never be said that the Department of Magical Enforcement had lost its touch. Despite the wave of reformations that had swept through the Ministry of Magic, the Aurors and Hit Wizards always stood strong, and it never showed more than in the field.

They were a perfectly brewed potion as Harry led the group into the Crystal Cave, no words or directions needed for him to know that as he moved, he was being covered. Ten of his men took immediate defensive position at the entrance, five shields were cast in front of him and the three aurors with the next best Patronuses. The rest would spread along the bank of the lake, far enough so there wasn't a clump of targets but close enough that they weren't isolated completely. If the rest of Simmons' team was visible, their first priority was to save and cover.

Harry knew all this, and so he didn't look behind him as he marched forward, trusting his men's shields to protect him. Instead he scanned the eerily familiar cavern, his heart pounding in remembered terror as he looked through the gloom of dark to see the Inferi floating in the lake, the ceiling so high it wasn't even visible, and the small island in the middle of the water where Dumbledore had-

It didn't matter what had happened in the past, because in the present the same island was being swarmed by the largest gathering of Dementor's Harry had seen since the Second War. He halted the progression, waving his wand and calling forth the memory of James's birth. March 5, 2004. Harry had been a nervous wreck the whole labor, to the point that Healers had given _him_ the calming draught not Ginny. But as soon as James was born, as soon as Harry heard the first cry of his first child, all his fears and worries about being a parent had vanished. This was his _son._ He had a son- he and the love of his life had a _child_ , and it was almost too much perfection in his life to comprehend, spilling out of him in a wide smile.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

Three other chants of the same spell rang out, and Harry's stag led the charge toward the island, a silver jack russell terrier and great dane flanking each side with an owl flying over head. A stream of silver flowed behind them, a latent barrier as overlapping waves of protection illuminated the darkness. He, Ron, Sanderson, and a Hit Wizard named Giles to were vulnerable while their patronuses were cast and had to depend on their comrades to protect them from any other dangers they might come across.

Their silver fog echoed off the surface of the lake and spidered over the motionless Inferi, lighting the dementors from below. Harry sent his patronus forward to scatter them, the dim fog that always accompanied a gathering of Dementors barring their path. He braced himself and focused more on the feeling of how precious James had been in his arms as he prepared to push them back-

-and instead felt a jolt as the stag hooves encountered a barrier and were forced back instead. [moment of intense anger] In his shock Harry found he had to cling more desperately to the memory, of how the exhaused smile on Ginny's face as she hugged their first child had ignited the bliss of the moment anew.

He felt rather than saw Ron give a similar start beside him as his terrier collided more forcefully with the wall of smoke, actually bouncing backwards and rolling off it's feet.

This time though Harry saw a faint ripple in the fog, in the shape of a soft dome. He redirected his silver stag to prance around its shape, shocked to find that it completely surrounded the island and dementors. Trapping the dementors like bugs in upturned bowl.

Murmurs traveled through his team as the other patronuses followed the stags' example, walking around the perimeter. Ron was the one who softly asked "Have you ever seen something that wasn't a patronus hold back a dementor?"

"No." Harry said grimly, and for once wished he'd brought a magizooligist as he cautiously stepped forward over the sandy bank.

"Contact on the left!" one of the Hit Wizards cried out, and Harry turned to see lumos spells being cast over a hunched form. Sandersons' great dane charged in the direction as well in case it was a dementor.

Between the glow of the auror's patronus and a dozen lit wands, a hunched form was slowly revealed. Morris, Lee, and Baker- the last three Aurors' that had been in Simmons group- lay unconscious at the knees of the oldest, frailest man Harry had ever seen in his life. Bare wisps of hair clung in patches to his scalp and bags of exhaustion hung dark beneath his eyes. His face was gaunt, bones jutting out from his cheeks and knobby hands which cradled Lee's head in his lap.

The man lifted his head to look at the advancing patronus, rusty brown eyes taking in the sight with something Harry could only describe as admiration. A hand reached from beneath his feathery cloak and lifted as though to touch the incorporeal creature, though he didn't rise from his kneeled position. "Magnificent," he said, the soft voice surprisingly strong and smooth as it spread across the crystal cave. "Simply magnificent."

Harry glanced at the three patronuses still circling the dome, then advanced toward the stranger. "Who are you?" he demanded, looking between the man and his incapacitated men.

"I am Apex." he met Harry's gaze as he looked away from the Patronus, giving the conversation his full attention. There was an unplaceable lilt to the voice as it spoke, a subtle hint of an accent so unfamiliar the the man could have claimed to be from anywhere and Harry would have had to believe him. "And you are Harry Potter. Head Auror for the British Ministry of Magic."

He had never grown accustomed to strangers knowing his full name, and his free hand still reached up to touch his scar subconsciously. Rusty eyes followed the motion while Apex hummed. "You are shorter than perceived."

A snort that sounded suspiciously like Ron's came from behind him. Harry glanced away to make sure that brother-in-law wasn't shirking his patronus due to the distraction.

When he looked back again a knobby hand was tucking a stray lock of hair from Lee's face. "There is no need to worry. I am keeping them at bay for now."

Harry narrowed his eyes and gestured to the smokey wall dementor and patronus alike seemed unable to penetrate. "That's your doing? How am I supposed to trust it?"

"However much you'd like, I'd suppose." Apex said with a small shrug, the feathers ruffling on his cloak.

Now that he was closer Harry could see more details of man, could tell his apparel was as old as the rest of him based on the bare patches where more feathers should have been and rips in the threadbare pants. He was bare-footed and bare chested, ribs jutting out like a skeleton.

A rush of sympathy went through Harry as the feathers again shifted in the dead air. _Probably emphasizing a shiver in the freezing cave._ Harry looked down though, his chest sinking as he realized that of the bodies around Apex, Lee was the only one still breathing. "What happened to my men?"

"Overwhelmed. They were hopelessly outmatched."

"And you're weren't?" Sanderson asked suspiciously, coming to stand loyally at Harry's side.

"That is a flock of two hundred and seven dementors." Apex reported. "A mere few patronuses could barely hope to stall them."

Two hundred and seven- that was nearly all the ones that escaped confinement in Azkaban, Harry realized. He looked back at the dome and three patronuses surrounding them to assure that their combined efforts were keeping them at bay. He calmly realized that whatever magic Apex was using it must have been extremely powerful to contain that many Dementors.

"As opposed to what you're doing." Sanderson prompted, "Which is what, exactly?"

"Not so very different from you yourself." Apex looked between the auror and his great dane patronus, which was still standing protectively between the old man and the rest of the Ministry Wizards. "It just has a different… motivation, shall we say, than this mutt of yours."

He spoke with the superiority that Harry had once thought exclusive to Pureblood society, as though by his very nature he was above the swarm of wizards that surrounded him.

The thought was shaken off almost immediately. Though he didn't know what Apex's motivation was, the man had clearly been here for a while, and was the reason the dementor swarm hadn't kissed anyone.

"You may collect your men, Head Auror Harry Potter." Apex lifted both hands to shoulder height, showing that he was unarmed. The feathers shifted on his shoulder but the cloak didn't fall. "It is why you are here, after all."

That was all the invitation he'd needed. A quick flurry of spells lifted their comrades from Apex, their robed forms levitating up and away. Harry smiled at the small victory. Lee was immediately taken to the waiting Healers while a few Hit Wizards grimly apparated away with the bodies.

The corners of Apex's mouth pinched slightly as he went to stand then stumbled and was forced to brace his hand for balance. The dome wavered for barely a second, but it was enough to make a marked change in the dementors it trapped. While before they'd been floating aimlessly, they now scrabbled and brushed against the very edge of their smoky cage, the chill of their presence growing colder until ice snaked over the water.

"I apologise," the voice was a warm contrast to the danger he contained, "I am weak, and some of you are quite frightened."

Harry glanced at Sanderson, nodded once, and together they gestured for some of their teams to lower their wands. Whatever else, the dementors were well contained for the moment, and such a show of trust toward a potential ally was important.

Although, Harry hadn't forgotten the other dangers of the Crystal Cave. He glanced toward the Inferi which still lurked in the waters, then did a confused double take. Some distant thought was buzzing insistently that he _look_ , and it took a while for him to realize what it was about the scene that had set off the latent instinct.

Inferi were dead. Harry knew that. They had always been dead, always bodies that Voldemort had animated with Dark Magic to slaughter any that dared cross the lake to take his Horcrux, but- but, they were _dead._ The bodies floating atop the lake were not lurking in wait but drifting listlessly, slowly becoming entrapped by the ice that the dementors spread. They should retreat from its path, or push their way to the banks to ensure they could defend the island as they'd been cursed to. Their complete inactivity could only mean that the curse had been broken, and they were now but dead corpses once more. They might have been freed when the last bit of Voldemort died… but grisly as it was, Harry knew they were still too fresh to have been decomposing for over twenty years.

This didn't make sense. He was _missing_ something. Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably for a few minutes, it taking that long for him to realize what was wrong.

He wasn't sad. Or scared, or hearing the sounds of friends and family screaming echoing in his ears. With _that_ many dementors lurking nearby he should be feeling and behaving like the grouchiest pessimist there could be. Instead Harry was feeling _calm._ Even _successful._ And he should definitely have noticed the difference between these corpses and the inferi they'd once been much sooner.

Stifling the urge to pace Harry instead tapped his finger on his holly wand, his agitation making his patronus to increase from a prance to a canter. He was aware of his men moving across the lakeshore, double checking behind every crevice of the uneven walls and lighting another fire for warmth.

One of the Healers bustled in with their usual air of importance. There had always been a tense relationship between Ministry Aurors and Mungo Healers. They said his men were too headstrong and keen to ignore injuries, while the Aurors knew all about the dangers of Dark Magic and more importantly could tell for themselves when they were _just fine, no more potions needed_ thank-you-very-much.

-and _why_ was his mind wandering so much? He needed to be focused in the _present,_ not the past. It had never been a problem before.

A thick blanket had been draped over Apex during his distraction, the corner of the old man's mouth lifting as he looked at it. "Aren't you a sweet one."

"Just doing my job." The Healer nonetheless smiled as he looked through the potions he carried.

Sanderson looked from them to the dementors, then shook his head. "Leave the intense care for later. We should get somewhere safer."

"I may need help to stand, I'm afraid." Apex took an offered hand, smiling peacefully at the Healer-"… I've got quite the appetite."

Harry snapped back to attention at the unnerving statement. "What does that mean?"

"Hunger is a powerful motivator, you see." This time Apex didn't shift his attention, rusted eyes still looking into those of the healer. The old man had a soft smile on his face, and Harry didn't know why it unnerved him so. Apex was between them a two hundred dementors, and an old man. An admittedly strange one, dressed only in frayed pants with no shoes and a feathered cloak which needed upkeep, but… why was he so focused on Apex? The Healer would take care of him, Harry should be focused on his patronus.

He had turned to just that when when a dull thud echoed louder than should have been possible.

Their positions had changed. Apex now stood strong, looking down at the kneeling Healer with the same confident smile on his expression. It seemed that the younger man's strength had simply- given out, and he now swayed visibly to stay upright. Apex braced him with a hand on his shoulder, nodding and sounding pleased. "Quite the sweet one indeed."

Harry and every other wizard felt something that could only be described as a _shift,_ a change in the balance of the cave. As though they were suddenly standing on a steep slope and their descent was inevitable and already pulling at them.

The Healer gasped at the feeling, but his shock was gently shushed by the hands still holding him. Apex patted his head as though preparing to send a child to bed before releasing the man, who fell in a boneless heap at his feet. He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply, humming. "Lovely appetizer."

The blanket fell from his shoulders, forgotten and useless as the feathered cloak _moved._ The grey mass split down the middle, spreading out and up into-

Wings. Large and imposing though still missing plumage, each nearly as long as Ron was tall. They dwarfed the old man as he straightened his spine a bit more, lazily sending small gusts through the otherwise dead air. His rusted gaze looked around at all the wizards, humming to himself as though he were perusing a shelf of books.

And yet, Harry realized, despite the change in the previously harmless elder, despite not even knowing what in the Wizarding World he'd just seen happen to the Healer- _he still wasn't scared._ Neither were his men, if the lack of shouting was anything to go by.

He set his lips in a thin line. He never thought he'd miss being scared, but he did. Fear was essential. Fear kept you on your toes, fear _told_ you when- when you were in danger.

"Wands out!" He commanded with an urgency he unnervingly didn't feel, and banished his patronus to summon a set of restraints. "Sanderson, take Apex into custody."

"Harry?" Ron asked in confusion, frowning at his brother in law. Sanderson looked confused as well, but didn't question his leader as he moved to support him.

Apex though, smiled and clapped softly as he slowly walked over. It wasn't mocking or derogatory, speaking more to how incredibly little he thought of the wizards before him. "Impressive Mister Potter. You _do_ live up to your reputation."

"What are you?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes in concentration as his mind started to wander down the path of comparing Apex to an enraged veela, like the ones he'd seen at the Quidditch World Cup in 1994 when- "What do you want?"

The beaming smile revealed his teeth for the first time, revealing they were sharp and far too pointed. "I am a unique, unrivaled singularity. And I am sorry, but as I said earlier: I have quite the appetite." As he finished he reached out a hand to grasp one of the Hit Wizards, who gasped slightly before his expression fell into blank apathy, even as he too slowly fell to his knees.

"Harry the dementors-!" Ron shouted with the first note of panic that Harry'd heard since they'd walked in.

He turned to see them swarming over the lake. The dome that had contained them was growing and expanding and they readily advanced behind it. Within moments the gray barrier was across the lake and over their own heads, dementors hungrily swarming all around them should they try to escape.

They cut off the exit, swarming between Harry, Apex, and the ten wizards who'd stayed back to guard the entrance. "Retreat!" Harry yelled at them, knowing that none of the Hit Wizards in that group had a Patronus strong enough to break through. Moments later apparating _pops_ and _snaps_ sounded their escape.

Harry took a closer look at the smokey fog that still kept man from dementor, inverted so that now the wizards were the ones trapped within the dome. The patronuses that were still cast once again tried to cross to no avail. Ron grunted when his terrier fell back the second time, looking at Harry grimly.

 _Who still was not scared._ Looking around, Harry could tell that _nobody_ was. Aurors and Hit Wizards alike were shifting stances and looking apprehensive, but there was very little urgency or even response to the imminent danger. His own mind and reactions felt… fuzzy, like it was Christmas and he'd had too much firewhiskey.

That settled it. Whatever was affecting him and his men, Harry could tell the reason if not the end goal. It was keeping them compliant and impassive when they should be ready to defend themselves at a moment's notice. _And the most likely cause,_ he looked to Apex standing over a third felled wizard, _was him._

On the heels of that thought was the realization that the dementors had been a distraction. "Sanderson, arrest him."

The tall Auror gave a start and hurriedly moved to do so, clearly befuddled by his own absent mindedness. "You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." Sanderson said on instinct, the line something originally from British Law Enforcement that Hermione had insisted be instituted among her Wizard Law Revitalizations.

Apex gave a snort at the cuffs being presented to him and left his hands by his sides. "I think not."

"You're… resisting arrest?" Sanderson said slowly, like the idea foreign to him. Which was strange because it wasn't. The man was usually ready for action and should have cast a body-bind curse before Apex had finished speaking.

"If that's what you would like to call it, though I would like to remind that I am the one protecting you from two hundred seven dementors, which will overpower you as easily as your companions…" he paused and took in a breath through his nose, his eyebrows drawing together for a moment. "... though there _is_ something incredibly powerful amongst you."

Harry had never been more glad in the field for his title as Head of the Department. No man felt the urgency of battle but they had all been trained to follow his command no matter what the circumstance, no questions asked when Harry was the one asking. Besides, immobilizing uncooperative individuals was plain standard procedure.

A dozen petrifying spells all rang out and struck Apex square in the chest, freezing him in place. Harry relaxed minutely, glad to have dealt with at least one of the confusing dangers that he should be _but still wasn't feeling_ threatened by. But then the giant wings twitched, just the tiniest bit, the feathers shifting in taunt _._ Then Apex moved a finger, blinked slow and meaningfully, stretching his neck before his face settled back into its eternal condescension.

 _That_ finally got the proper attention. Ministry training kicked in and soon wave after wave of spellwork was fired, a staggering display of the strength beyond their numbers.

Apex's starved frame lurched to and fro from the blunt force of the spells, but was quick to reorient. It reminded Harry of the the first time that he'd seen Giant's blood in action. Fifth Year when Umbridge tried to arrest Hagrid during the Astronomy final. The groundskeeper was only half giant, yet not a single spell seemed capable of doing anything that lasted more than a few seconds.

Though clearly not immune, the spells they cast weren't doing nearly as much as they should have. Knockback spells barely pushed Apex an inch across the soft sand. Stinging hexes briefly made skin twitch. And those were the ones that _worked_. Many of the spells being cast his way seemed to just- fizzle out upon contact.

Between the ineffectiveness of their spells upon Apex and their own slowed reactions, it soon became apparent that they were doing little to actually stop him. He strolled among them and eventually disregarded the spells being sent his way, further discouraging the unmotivated wizards.

Ron made a sound of frustration before spinning to the fight himself. His jack russell terrier gave a soundless howl as it charged with silver in its wake, the misty trail landing on Apex and prompting the first true reaction.

The winged creature hissed- _hissed_ with displeasure and Harry felt a shiver at how the sound reminded him of Voldemort. Rusted eyes were almost red in the contrasting blue-silver of the patronus, ignoring the wizards to instead watch the magic as it weaved around him. "It seems Hallows have quite the range," Apex said, the snarl still marring his features even as he easily dodged the next charge of Ron's terrier.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ Sanderson cried, his great dane emerging once more. Harry saw the toll the powerful spell was taking on his comrade from multiple castings, but the Auror determinedly grit his teeth as he sent his patronus in to support Ron's terrier and Giles' owl.

The large canine charged forward, circling around him. Apex ducked and weaved away in a movement that was far too fluid considering the massive wings that trailed behind him. He seemed to be dancing in the illuminated cavern, his focus still trained on the three patronuses that followed him.

It left him open to the barrage of spells that Harry directed his men to resume. Every variation of disabling jinx, curse, and charm was sent at the winged creature, slowing it down enough for the patronuses to dip and weave and deal some true damage.

Apex scowled and ducked aside, making his way to Giles. The Hit Wizard, still green in the field, let his uncertainly waver through his owl and the patronus dematerialized instead of protecting its master.

Sharp teeth smiled as he once again moved fluidly, his wings masking the direction and goal until it was too late and Apex was behind the wizard. Apex placed a skeletal arm around Giles from behind, taking in a satisfied breath at the same time that the wizards gave a shuddering gasp before falling unconscious.

Harry lifted his wand, casting the tried and true spell that had never truly failed him before- " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Apex's grasp was wrenched off the wizard, and dozen well-timed spells pushed him away as another Auror magically lifted Giles away to safety. Apex scowled over to look at the Head Auror. His rusted eyes took in the distance between them, and the many armed wizards that stood defensively between them, clearly well practiced in group combat.

The old man straightened from his fighting crouch, wincing slightly at the resumed assault of the two canine patronuses but no longer avoiding them. "Your conduits," Apex said the word slowly as though experiencing it for the first time. "are proving to be problematic."

Harry tilted his head. "That mean you're ready to give in?"

"Goodness no," the ragged feathers bristled and flicked a few times in the dead air. "It just means that this is going to be messier than I had hoped."

He only had time to frown in confusion, then-

Chaos. The barrier between them and the dementors vanished in less than a second and the cloud that descended was staggering. After the mind-numbing effect Apex had held over them the sudden despair that befell the Ministry wizards was crippling. Many of them fell to their knees as the chill of the cavern grew into bone-freezing despair, every man swarmed by more dementors than they could dare withstand even under normal circumstances.

Screams echoed in Harry's ear, and suddenly he was back on the Hogwarts train and meeting dementors for the first time. Hopeless before the crippling effect of a creature that forced the memory of his parents dying cries to flash behind his eyes. That made him remember the sight of Fred Weasley dead in the Battle of Hogwarts, cradled and mourned by his family. Of Dobby, the elf's huge eyes blank and dull with Bellatrix's dagger buried in his frail chest. Of every wizard and sacrifice he'd withstood and witnessed in his life as an Auror.

He couldn't- he'd failed. Lost the moment he'd stepped into this cavern that had haunted his memories for two decades, and Dumbledore's miserable cries joined in those of the many others.

It felt like an eternity but was likely only seconds that he was lost in memories before a hand grabbed and tugged his own. He followed it blindly and breathed in relief when he was pulled into the safe warmth of a happy memory, looking up to see Ron's terrier wagging its tail at him softly. Sanderson gave his hand another guiding pull, placing him further into the circle of protection that the two patronuses were struggling to maintain against the hundreds of dementors that descended hungrily upon them.

Not every wizard was inside the safe area, a problem that they were working to rectify as quickly as possible. Ron's terrier ran out to find and retrieved their felled comrades while Sanderson's dane did it's best to maintain their small shell of protection against the storm of cloaked monsters bearing down on them. Every man who could cast a patronus shield as support, and those who couldn't were casting every other kind of combat spell freely.

Harry held off on casting his own patronus for now, instead focusing on trying to find Apex in the chaos that surrounded them. Perhaps, an appallingly calm part of his mind suggested, he could used the old man's ego against him. He had seemed more than willing to talk about himself earlier.

"What," he called out, "Never seen wands before? Or just wish you had one of your own?"

"I am still growing accustomed to wizarding society. I am of course familiar with magical conduits. In my experience such items were wondrous. But to you, they are commonplace."

The tone changed back into derision on the last word. "You seem rather dismissive of something that's sent you into such a panic."

"Oh not panicked, Mister Potter. Although I will admit a certain degree of curiosity. I do wonder…" A grey mass suddenly pushed out of the dementors, and Harry spun around and sent a knockback spell flying at what he thought was a dementor trying to break into the protective circle. He didn't realize it was Apex himself until it was too late and the spell proved ineffective once more. The wings opened as the old man reached toward his wand before Harry had a chance to react. As soon as his boney finger touched the dark wood the wand screamed, louder and longer than Voldemort's ever had when attacked by its twin. The vibrations of it traveled up Harry's arm and seemed to pierce him as well, shaking him to the core as he quickly staggered away.

"Is that Holly? And- ah, the smoky element of a phoenix. Quite the combination."

Harry was no longer listening, distantly hearing Ron call his name as his eyes looked down at his wand that limped numb in his hand. The constant warmth of its support had faded away to nothing. He flicked it and the wood gave another wrenching cry in response, failing to summon anything.

Harry still didn't feel scared of Apex's presence, but he welcomed anger. The man had damaged _his_ wand. He would pay for that. He looked up as the man approached, an eager and crazed gleam in the rusted eyes-

And then Apex stopped with a howl as a silver mass attached to his shoulder, ripping and clawing ferociously at where the large wing merged to its back. Ron's terrier attacked with the fierce loyalty that was reserved for the direst of situations, small claws and teeth wreaking havoc. Apex staggered as the joints in his wing was pushed in the wrong direction, forced to stumble back, away from Harry.

 _I've never seen a patronus touch anything before,_ that strangely detached and calm part of Harry's mind came out again to comment. He dismissed it and looked down at his wand again, trying desperately to get _some_ kind of reaction from it.

Apex finally reached over his shoulder and grabbed the patronus by the scruff of the neck, yanking abruptly. The silver glow of creature dragged behind as only the grey of the small dog was flung away into the swarm of dementors. The lingering presence shrank as it was absorbed into Apex's fingertips. Ron grimaced and a bead of sweat traveled down his forehead as the spell failed, keeping his grip on his wand firm as he watched Apex approach.

Some kind of decision flashed in the Granger-Weasley's eyes as he determinedly put his wand behind him, using his body as a shield to protect it from Apex's touch. He took a deep breath, then with a battlecry charged forward and tackled his opponent with the same determination that his patronus had just displayed.

"Ron-!" Harry shouted in disbelief as he watched his best friend and brother-in-law move, waving his wand in yet another spell that failed.

Magic assaults on Apex were forced to stop as the two rolled on the lakeshore in a muggle duel, Ron's fists landing solid blow after blow on the boney frame while Apex battered him in return with beats of his large and surprisingly powerful wings.

Then Ron's swings started to slow and eventually he stopped altogether, his left hand still cocked back as a look of confusion crossed his face. Apex hissed a low chuckled as he got to his feet, grabbing and pulling Ron up with him by the front of his robes. "Fiery, this one. And loyal to a fault."

"Let him go!" Sanderson cried, but couldn't do much else. His dane was now their only defense against the dementors that bore down on them, and even with the help of the other wizards it was easy to see he was growing exhausted.

"I will soon enough." His tongue flicked out to swipe over his pointed teeth.

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

-the spell landed firmly. It still was an appallingly simple spell, one that Harry had cast more times in his life than he could count. And yet, this time when it struck Apex, both he and Ron were jettisoned away from the other as though victims of a small explosion.

Ron groaned weakly as he was shoved into the sandy bank, blinking emptily at the cavern ceiling and making no move to get up. The Ministry Wizards immediately grabbed and started dragging him to where their other injured comrades had been gathered.

Apex had been thrown in the other direction, up and back, and his wings proved a functionality as the automatically spread to stabilize and slow his descent. His rust eyes looked red as they scanned and immediately found the source of the magic that had assaulted him. His eyes narrowed and the sparse feathers on his wings bristled as he barely whispered "A Hallow."

Harry tightened his grip on The Elder Wand, hoping his expression wasn't betraying his own surprise. The sight of his best friend in danger had prompted him to do what he'd never done before, and wield the weapon he hadn't touched since it had killed Voldemort.

And even then, for the brief moment that he'd held it, The Elder Wand had not felt like _this._ The gnarled wood was literally vibrating in his grasp, like a rabid creature pulling at the end of a leash in eagerness. He'd only pointed it in Apex's direction before a mass of near uncontrollable magic had spewed from the wandtip and he'd barely had time to direct it into the first spell he could think before the attack had been launched. He suspected he couldn't turn away from Apex if he tried, the wand spinning unerringly like a compass refusing to point anywhere but north.

"You are full of surprises, Mister Potter." Apex said as he landed back on the ground a distance away, his eyes still fixed upon the weapon aimed at him. "I will admit I was not expecting to see _that._ "

The dementors swarmed around them, and Harry took a breath. He wanted to duel Apex- knew that it was inevitable- but as he saw Sanderson's patronus flickering in his periphery he knew that if he didn't do something about the dementors first, there wouldn't be much of a duel to fight. _And besides,_ the calm part of his mind pointed out, _hadn't one spell already proven more useful against this opponent than any other?_

" _Expecto Patronus!"_

The Elder Wand snapped firm and sure in his grip, the slight glow compounding and growing and Harry felt not just his own magic but that of every wizard who'd ever wielded the ancient weapon behind the spell. When his stage emerged it was larger and more solid than any patronus Harry had ever seen before, towering several feet over his head.

Apex took a step back as he looked at the projection whose antlers reached the height of his wings.

The stag looked around the cavern, silver eyes lingering upon the dementors which hesitated at its arrival. Unlike every other time Harry's patronus didn't leave his side to charge ahead. Instead it braced its hooves in a stance more befitting a predator and cast its head back as though to howl. From the soundless cry waves of power emanated, the silver crests casting the dementors back from a force only they were crippled by.

Them- and Apex. The winged man could only stand his ground for the first few waves of power before he too was pushed back.

Well- he hadn't expected that to actually _work_. Harry took in ragged pants as he and all the wizards stood cautiously in silver shields that protected them. None of them expected it to last, he knew, and yet it did, long enough for them to catch a much needed breather. After a few moments Sanderson cautiously dismissed his own patronus, the aid insignificant before the power of the other.

 _First sign of danger we'll apparate straight out of there._

When Harry had said those words, he hadn't meant them literally. Aurors constantly faced danger, risked their lives on a daily basis. Some days and some situations were more dangerous than others, but danger had and probably would always be a part of his life. Over the years though Harry had learned to acknowledge when he was caught unprepared and in over his head. And unfortunately- this was one of those times.

He was far from outnumbered, but that was no longer an advantage. Most of his men were either unconscious or nearly so, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to protect everyone. The strength of the Elder Wand would be the perfect cover for their escape, but Harry wasn't even sure whether they had the manpower left to carry everyone to the tunnel out of here. Besides, the dementors were still between them and the only exit from the cavern, and the exit wasn't even manned for a protected retreat anyways. The ten wizards that had been on it-

Harry could smack himself. He probably would when he got the chance- those men had _apparated away._ Just like the other Horcrux hiding places, just like Malfoy manor, all the protections and magic over the Crystal Cavern must be gone. Which was why there hadn't been a blood toll to enter, why the inferi were no longer protecting the lake, _and why it was now possible to disapparate immediately._

"Retreat!" Harry cried, the command startling everyone. "Grab a man and apparate out of here."

Dawning comprehension rose in the people around him, everyone turning to grasp the hand of their nearest comrade. One would cast their getaway while the other kept their wand ready to defend. A few men bent over to grab people in the pile of their wounded comrades, apparating them to safety.

"NO!" Apex snarled as the first of them started disappearing, pressing his hands against the silver barriers that were still pressing him slowly backwards.

Harry narrowed his eyes and strengthened the patronus as his men continued to retreat, some of them returning to grab more of the wounded to safety with Side-Along Apparition. A thread of unease went through him as he felt the endurance of the spell continue to wane faster than he would expect, though he supposed restraining two hundred dementors was a bit too much for even The Elder Wand to do with ease.

He continued to pour his effort into their defense, losing track of everything else until Sanderson placed an exhausted hand on his shoulder. "That's it sir. We're the last ones left."

Harry smiled slightly at that. Of course, exhausted as the man had been, the Deputy Head had refused to leave before the rest of their men were safe. It was why he'd chosen the Auror as his right-hand man in the first place.

"Do you have one last disapparation in you?"

"To be honest, sir, I can barely see straight."

He nodded and looked over the cave one last time, then froze abruptly at what he saw. _Shit._ The Mungo Healer was still crumpled on the other side of the cave, forgotten in the chaos of rescuing their attack force.

Apex saw his focus and smiled, making his own way over. The progress was slow and stilted as the walls of the patronus still bore down on him, but he had the head start and would reach the defenseless man long before them.

Harry stiffened. He didn't dare move near Apex again and restrained Sanderson from doing the same. He glanced from the stag patronus which still stood firm to the loyal man at his side. "Do you have one more in you?"

He nodded grimly and wiped the sweat off his face.

Harry turned back to Apex. "Grab my shoulder, don't break contact."

A firm grip took hold of him as commanded, and Sanderson pulled out his wand and closed his eyes in order to focus more on the memory he pulled to mind. _"Expecto Patronum._

Harry waited, adding extra energy to his own patronus in an attempt to keep Apex from moving too quickly toward the downed healer. He wait as Great Dane emerged unbearably slowly from the fog, needing it to be able to take the full weight of the dementors once more.

"Ready?"

The hand gripped him tighter in confirmation, and Harry dropped his patronus and cried _"Accio!"_

Waves of fear and depression came pressing in again as Sanderson's dane tried to stand up to the onslaught. Living up to its reputation the Elder Wand's spell outshone the norms of magic as it pulled the Healer flying across the distance between them, far out of Apex's reach.

The winged man grimaced in frustration, and with ire ripped into the fading shields of Harry's patronus, pulling the silver gleam out of it so it went into him instead of back to the Elder Wand.

For one moment Harry was keenly aware of a void in his mind, but in the next the Healer's body crashed forcefully into him and Sanderson, true to his word, did not let his grip waver as he too was pulled down from the force of collision.

Apparition would never be his favorite way to travel, Harry knew, yet with the Elder Wand the journey was almost bearable, roomy despite his two Side-Along passengers. His ears popped before they arrived in the chaos of St. Mungo's Hospital waiting room.

He fell to the ground as the full force of his suppressed emotions hit him all at once. Anger at himself, for taking so long to work his way out of the trap that this creature had set for them. Confusion about what Apex _wanted,_ what he had meant with his cryptic words that were suddenly far more important than he'd thought mere moments ago. Fear for what had happened to the wizards that he'd touched.

With _abject terror_ that Apex had hurt Ron as well.

A blanket was draped over his shoulders and magic chocolate was placed in his hands to combat the dementor chill that wracked his body. He watched Ron and others being taken away for medical care, chaos and confusion that swarmed just as dangerously around him as the dementors had.

It wasn't until he found himself seated on a bench and halfway through his chocolate that Harry realized he still had the Elder Wand in a death grip, and pried his fingers loose. His hands shook as he put it back in his pocket and pulled out the other wand that been safely tucked away for the second part of the fight.

His holly wand was still dead in his fingertips, and as he turned it over his eyes found crack along its length, exposing the core. He grimaced and traced his fingers over it apologetically, resolving to visit Ollivander soon to have the wandmaker tell what he made of the events. Harry had no clue what Apex had done and didn't want to compound a problem with more magic, though the Elder Wand was still a heavy temptation that weighed upon him.

He shakily got to his feet and started pacing, the memory of what happened too much to let him relax as he waited for word from the St. Mungo's Healers. He was safe in the magical hospital, he knew, yet as Apex's words and actions turned over and over in his mind, his hand found its way to his pocket to tightly grip the Elder Wand.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hugo Granger-Weasley felt a very palpable sense of unease that he was sure any other student would agree with: It was so _weird_ to see the Hogwarts Express in the middle of the semester. And even weirder for it to be departing so late at night, their occupants wouldn't arrive at Kings Cross Station until early in the morning.

A small crowd had gathered in the courtyard to watch, standing in pairs and clumps. Everyone had some excuse, some reason to be here- a book to read, and owl to pet, a shoulder to lend. The bystanders were clearly divided.

A rather somber group was watching gurneys from the Hospital Wing being lifted from closed carriages into converted train carts. Unfortunately, some of the magical injuries from the fight had compounded into conditions that would require more extensive care than Healer Prin could offer. Roxanne had been been worst among them, though luckily not even her case was truly dire. They were being transported physically to avoid complicating the conditions any further with more magic, and their friends were dumping chocolates and well wishes for their recovery.

The people on that section of the platform had made no attempt to hide their ire with the other group of students boarding the train, though they didn't dare try anything further with Headmistress McGonagall herself overseeing the departure of the students being suspended for their part in the fight. Her sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd made Hugo nervous even though he knew he wasn't in any trouble at all. Prefects paced in an obvious display of authority while the interim Head Boy and Girl were standing by McGonagall herself.

McGonagall's judgement had been swift and decisive. As much as the shock about their confiscated wands had shook them, her personal questioning of students the next few days had been even more rattling to her charges. A few days after that a public notice of suspended students had been placed in every common room, the guilty parties under direction to pack their supplies and be ready to leave at a moment's notice.

Hugo Granger-Weasley stood among his Gryffindor family in deliberately plain robes. Not everyone had made it because the departure time hadn't been preset- something about waiting on Mungo Healer schedules so professionals could oversee the medical transports. The Legacies who had made it had already said goodbye to Roxanne as her gurney had been loaded and locked into the train, and now stood in a small circle around James.

"This isn't fair," Lorcan mumbled, carrying one of his friend's trunks as penance. "I should have been suspended as well."

James glanced up but quickly looked down again, worrying his lip.

"I mean, it's my fault Roxanne started the fight. I never should have told her I got jumped." He glanced over to where the Ravenclaws were, seeking and finding some kid named Sam Holt who had confessed to being the person that'd cast the jinx at him the morning before the fight. Next to him was Emmaline Wilkes, temporarily suspended from her Head Girl duties, along with school. Her expression of indignation about the entire affair matched the one of her eagle owl, large wings banging in protest on the bars of its cage.

"You get attacked, other people argue despite you trying to stop them, and yet _you're_ the one to blame." Fred II said in an unusually bitter manner, folding his arms. "Lysander would tell you to work on your logic."

James snorted tiredly. "Right. Along with some snooty 'I told you so's' and maybe a threat or two with his new standing."

Hugo grimaced, glancing back over to where McGonagall was still watching over everything. Lysander Scamander and the promoted Gryffindor Prefect Lucinda 'Lucy' Brenning were standing at her side in a display of their new authority as temporary Head Boy and Girl. "I mean, being Head Boy was never something Ly _wanted_ to be. Too many people."

Lorcan looked over as well, then nodded agreement. "He's not enjoying this at all."

If you asked Hugo, Lysander never looked like he enjoyed anything outside of his books. But he supposed Lorcan was a better judge of the other Scamander than he was.

"If you say so," James didn't offer any further argument, instead hiking his book bag higher up on his shoulder. Since his and Roxanne's names had appeared on the suspension notice he'd grown more and more sullen and withdrawn. Hugo suspected his older cousin had been in denial that it would actually happen.

Nobody said much else as they loaded James's trunks and awkwardly gave him final hugs goodbye. Hugo shifted his weight nervously. He didn't like this- it wasn't like the times he'd seen his older cousins and siblings off from Platform 9 ¾ in previous years. Though the group was gathering their family fame's usual attention, the Hufflepuff First Year was feeling waves of animosity and spite instead of admiration from the spectators. It set his hair on end.

Personally, he agreed wholeheartedly with McGonagall's decisions. She'd suspended students from every House and issued even more detentions, which was more than fair on a school-wide scale. On a more personal level Hugo still hadn't forgiven Rose, James and Lorcan for what they'd done to Zoey with the _Scandals_. Merlin- his own sister!- but the division in the Legacies, in his family bothered him more. He wasn't sure what all this meant for the future.

"-at least the worst is over, yeah?" Lorcan offered hopefully.

"Are you kidding?" James said with his first bite of fire since they'd seen the Hogwarts Express. "Mum's gonna _explode_."

Everyone shuddered reflexively at the idea of Ginny Potter's ire, giving James pats of sympathy.

The support had him taking in a shaky breath, admitting "And Dad is… he'll be so…" he hung his head, not needing to finish for them to understand.

All James ever wanted was to be like his father. As much as he loved his mother, it was obvious who James had always looked up to, whose footsteps he tried to follow and the man whom he strove to make proud. The inevitable disappointment upon arriving home for _suspension_ … just the idea was already breaking him down.

The Gryffindors in the family shared uncertain glances. They had no idea what to say, and as they looked down and around Hugo realized they were subconsciously looking for Lily to step up. She wasn't here though- she'd gone straight from dinner to check on Albus again. So when word had reached Hufflepuff Commons about the Express here to take students away, he'd had no way to reach her. It was also likely the reason that Dominique and Albus weren't here either, but it was Lily's absence that was felt most keenly. The family's interactions were a bit stilted and awkward as they realized she wasn't there to smooth any accidentally ruffled feathers from a poor choice of words.

Hugo sighed, and then stepped toward his cousin. He was a Hufflepuff too, after all, so loyal support was something he should be good at.

"He loves you." He told James, "He'll be mad as the rest of us that you were so owl-brained and idiotic and rude and I'm sure you're definitely grounded on top of everything-" maybe he wasn't as good at this as he thought he'd be… "-but he loves you, Aunt Ginny loves you, and nothing's gonna change that."

James had started to redden with indignation at the passing insults, but the tension in his shoulders eased with the finish. He nodded once, a bit of his usual confidence coming back to his eyes. "I guess I'll see you at Christmas then. Don't let the team skip practice while I'm out- we might not have any more scrimmages, but Slytherin and Hufflepuff do and I don't want them getting any edge."

There was a chorus of enthusiastic agreement from his Housemates before the train whistle cut their conversation off abruptly. James looked up at the train, shuffled his feet, and got onto the Express alone.

The crowd of gathered students sombered further and said their goodbyes, then watched the train pull away. There was no excitement, no waves being crammed out the small windows… _it was definitely wrong to see the Hogwarts Express leaving like this,_ Hugo decided to himself as he watched the trail of smoke disappear in the setting daylight.

 _But maybe at the same time,_ he added hopefully, deciding to trust in McGonagall's decisions. _Maybe it's for the best._

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When the fireplace roared to life in the living room, Ginny Weasley jolted upright on the couch, instantly awake despite it being the dead of night. She had her wand in one hand just in case, but seeing the familiar figure that stepped out of the Floo Network had her breathing a heavy sigh of relief.

Harry practically fell atop her, exhaustion dragging at his every bone. "Hot chocolate," he mumbled, and though Ginny hugged him back she felt her heart sink in dread. She'd long ago learned to tell what her husband's moods were after missions. Best case he would arrive home, wrap his arms around her, and barely make it to the bedroom before he fell asleep, clutching her tight as though any moment she might vanish. But still, he would sleep, dead to the world before waking up and telling her about what had happened.

It was the worse cases that prevented him from even falling asleep first, that would keep Harry awake for hours with latent adrenaline and sometimes guilt or anger racing through him. Sometimes he would be able to talk about it with her, others he'd just sit awake the whole night. Sometimes he would hold her hand and others he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. Ginny braced herself for any scenario as she brought a fresh cup of steaming chocolate into Harry's study, with a few drops of Calming Draught in hope it would help even more.

Harry took the mug with a small smile, then turned back to the room. He was sitting in a guest chair instead of behind his desk, staring at the portrait that concealed the safe he kept the Elder Wand in.

Ginny followed his gaze and bit her lip. It had been pure selfishness that had prompted her to ask Harry to do what he'd sworn not to and take the Elder Wand on an Auror mission. As hard as it was to bid Harry adieu for work and know that he might not return safe, it was infinitely harder to know he might leave and _not want_ to come back. Magics that messed with minds would always be her greatest dread, and the idea of Harry knowingly risking his memories was petrifying to her.

She could never ask him to stay. Harry had always been the one to lead a charge, had been born with danger dogging his every step. Ginny had known that when she fell in love with him and married him and she wouldn't ask him to change who he was.

But it had been a moment of selfish weakness when she'd asked him to take the Elder Wand. She hadn't expected him to actually _do it,_ though. Seeing the frame pushed aside and the safe open had given her a heady relief… and a surge of guilt. She'd immediately put their family portrait back in place.

"... it saved our lives." Harry mumbled, staring at the portrait. The nine year old James waved, and Harry shook his head before clarifying "The Elder Wand. If I hadn't brought it…"

Ginny released a breath of tension. 'Saved lives' was always a good thing. "What happened?"

It seemed he was up to talking about parts of what went down in the Crystal Cave. Harry told the tale in stilting sentences, sometimes stopping mid-word to furrow his brow at nothing, or to just look at her before looking away again.

He ducked away when he mentioned how incredibly powerful his patronus had been from the Elder Wand and she asked what memory he'd used.

Harry paused, as he always did before sharing something so personal, then said haltingly "March 5, 2004."

She'd smiled gently as she thought of the day before letting him go back to talking about the winged man who had the power to contain hundred of dementors and, it seemed, break Voldemort's curses like candy wrappers. It seemed impossible.

She got the general idea though, and it made her reach out to hold his free hand tightly. He'd pulled the Elder Wand out and placed it on the desk at some point during the tale. The pale wood shone innocuously in the light, belying the power it contained, humming at the edge of the witches consciousness.

Harry admitted the events were hazy for him- this 'Apex' creature seemed to have really rattled him. "I can't even describe it, Ginny. As long as he was standing there I- we- _none_ of us were really reacting right. The only time when I felt any kind of fear if _him_ was when he touched Ron, and even then…"

He trailed off as he watched his portrait put young Albus down for a moment to kneel with James. Ginny waited another moment before daring to ask "What did the Healers say?"

"They don't know. It's- not good, though. They said something about him and the others that Apex touched being in shock. The staff was a bit overwhelmed, though. Not all their Healers were there and some of us were also Kissed when the dementors descended." He took a deliberate gulp of the chocolate at the reminder of the dementors that'd been there, still keeping his eye on the portrait. "But at least Ron was awake, though... Rattled. Confused."

"Confused?" Ginny repeated and followed Harry's gaze, wondering why his attention was so fixated.

"He didn't remember what we were doing. Or why he was wearing Ministry Robes- Ginny, he didn't even recognize _me_ for a moment. Then he asked if I my hair had been pranked with something from George's-" He stopped and closed his eyes, painfully quoting, "if I'd been pranked by something from ' _Fred and George's'_ Joke Shop."

She sucked in a breath. "He doesn't remember?"

"He doesn't remember." Harry agreed hollowly. "I don't know how much memories he lost, but he… he's better than Sanderson. Or the others. He just- he has no memory of what we were doing, and no idea of what he doesn't remember. I don't know how I'm going to tell Hermione."

Ginny slipped closer and hugged him gently. "You'll tell her he's alive, and at worst, she might have to recondition him to do pick up his dirty socks from the floor."

He chuckled half-heartedly, kissing her forehead before tiredly resting his cheek against her. They held eachother for a moment. Each just breathing in the other and relishing that fact.

When she glanced up and saw him still frowning at their family portrait she frowned as well, reaching up to put a hand on his cheek. "What is it?"

He looked away suddenly, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"Harry. What's wrong?" she asked more sternly, leaning back.

"Don't hate me." Harry blurted suddenly, wincing and truly sounding like he believed it was a possibility.

"Never." She grabbed him tighter, looking between his eyes. "Darling, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

"What-" he licked his lips, his voice cracking as he asked "Ginny… what's our eldest son's name?"

* * *

 _I'm aliiive! And have officially decided that combat scenes are the bane of my existence. I am so, so sorry that this chapter took so long. there is a 7,000 word scene in here that I redid like a bajillion times but could NOT be happy with until I finally complained to my beta who went "Huh. Let me spew off a PERFECT way to make that Apex scene flow!"- and it still took me like a week to make it happen... I have no excuse._ _Combat scenes are the bane of my existence._

 _Lemme know what ya'll think! (One of my beta's suggested I add 'evil author' to my story tags)_


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